Untold Tales Comp. library from Anthony Blackshaw.

She glides past the dumpster, replacing the street with a catwalk. Tail swinging, arrogant shoulders rolling. The warm sun on her back is the caress of stage lights. It simmers the drying sidewalk, lifts the musk of champagne and body heat. It shimmers, protects and defends, deflecting invitations, coarse words and...

His eyes don’t blink. From eleven to midnight every night, he stands and stares at me. Right at me. His skin has an ethereal glow in the milky moonlight. His clothes cling to him and his hair sags like he's all wet. Though his face is inches away from the window, his breath doesn't fog the glass. When he's there, my room...