Harry B. Sanderford

Southbound Harry B. Sanderford  Maggie leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the Greyhound bus window. Over the river and through th...

Betty Lou Batters was a legend with an egg beater. Her cakes rose higher and her cream whipped up the fluffiest. Rumor was she could whip ...

An orange tabby with white tape on her paws sat up where she knew she shouldn't be. Her tail swept the counter like a windshield wiper...

Barry Tuttle worked as a guard. For twenty seven years, Monday through Saturday with a rotating day off midweek, he'd worn the butt...

Wexler stopped his cart in men’s toiletries and had to marvel at the sheer volume of product space devoted solely to the elimination of whis...

Daddy says Sissy an' me can go swimmin' once I skint this mess o' cats. Mama asked how many we caught.  Daddy cyphered up ...

Whistle Wile “So Bob, what line are you in?” “I head up complacency and acquiescence for The Department of Unrelenting Toil.” ...