The moonlight glowed off of Nana's white hair as she hunched in a patch of leafy greens. Her long, knobby fingers wrapped around a bundle of leaves. With a tug, the plant ripped out of the earth leaving a deep pockmark. "Macauley,” she said as she peeled back the cold, damp earth enclosing the rutabaga. …
Fresh Bite: Part 1
Tonight, the spray can clattered like a warning. The trolls had to work fast; the train would start rolling any moment. Mac ran a blue hand over the train car and got a feel for it. Smooth and sun-baked despite the night air, a solid pang to the palm. Nothing like those paint-eater concrete slabs …
Caity Scott Writing 