“What are we doing?” he asks sitting on the lake dock...

We come to a barrier of concrete and spikes...

The cantankerous old scrap wagon rattled and chugged...

I shiver as the wind pelts me with carbon grit...

The hero paid a coin and stepped off the boat...

“What do you seek?” it asked...

Half yanked, the kids kept up with their leashed pet running through autumn leaves...

“I’m just a Pumpkin Wizard!”...