Angel Whelan writes the kind of stories that once had her checking her closet each night, afraid to switch off the light.
Finalist in the Vocal Plus and Return of The Night Owl challenges.
- Runner-Up in From Across the Room Challenge
- Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
The SentinelRunner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
Sheriff Myers pressed his hands against his forehead, trying to crush the hangover into submission. Damn it, he’d been doing so well! He’d made it more than six months this time, got the AA chip to prove it. Then he’d switched on the news last night, and seen Grayson Collier’s smug murderous face plastered all over it, and that was that. Goodbye sobriety, hello waking up on the kitchen floor this morning with no idea how he’d got there.
Pip. Pip. Pip. He swung the detector in slow arcs over the freshly turned earth. The gentle stirrings of a country morning washed over the field; thrushes singing in the hedgerows, the distant thrum of a tractor. He couldn’t hear it with his headphones on, only the incessant buzz of static electricity and the infernal pip of the detector.