Summer Sundays were always meant for al fresco dinners. An opportunity for a busy family to share the week’s news over a bottle of wine and a table straining with food.
I didn’t see why it had to be different after the accident. Every week I prepared a spread fit for a king, only I was the sole diner. Continue reading “Summer Sundays”
The room was quiet, save for the steady electrical hum of computers and the soft tip-tap of keyboards and mice. Five operators sat in line, each with their face illuminated by the vivid glow of their monitors.
They were coming up to 3am, and they knew the requests would soon come flooding in, not because paranormal connections where higher at this time than any other, but because that’s what non-dead souls thought to be true. Continue reading “Operator”