This week’s writing club session is going to entail reading snippets of our works-in-progress. Despite being the president, I am filled with dread. The dual forces of writers block and stage fright pay no heed to hierarchy.
Back when I was a little VO, Grandma would threaten us kids with “El Cucuy” if we didn’t behave. According to her, if we were bad, he would come to us at night and steal us from our beds. 167 more words