I am a silly goose. I like saying the word "silly." Because of how silly I am, everyone calls me a silly goose, too. I am proud to be such a silly goose. My silliness reaches no bounds. So naturally, I got run over by a car while squawking at it silly in the middle of the road.

Leslie watched her fiancee read the first clue. The way her eyes twitched and squinted, the way her lips curled into a satisfactory grin. Raja placed the sheet down, reciting the poem. “One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a wedding, Four for a birth, Five for silver..”

In this world, you are the victim or the offender, and I refuse to be the victim.

I can hear twigs snapping and leaves rustling underfoot. Someone or something is following me in this forest. Panic begins to swell and I pick up the pace, I'm running away but from who or what? My foot snags on a tree root and I fall face first. I can taste the dirt and blood.

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.