By, Nan Claire Falkner

On Founders Day each year, there was a parade which ended in Middleton’s Park Square. Everyone was there this year except for Cullen. He had just lost his wife Hallie in a freak accident. She had received a phone call telling her she was next. The Mayor, what he called himself, was a self- appointed cleanser of the lost souls in his village.

“Damn it” he screamed, “This is not what life is supposed to be like!”

“Yes it is, Cullen, she was unclean and she paid the price for it!” the voice behind him whispered. “You know, you’re next.”

By, Nan Claire Falkner

On the first day of Spring each year, they gathered by the fireplace in the woods and placed their items onto the coals. Usually, it was a berry from their crops or a strand of wheat.

This year was an exception. Colton moved closer to the fire and threw the object in. The flame grew huge and smelled awful – rotten to the core and made the embers in the pit turn an odd shade of green. “What is that horrible smell?” He shouted at his wife.

“It’s dog shit you idiot!” She smirked, “Next time watch what you step on.”