
by Claire Murray
“Mornin’, Miss Aggie.”
The chorus of baritone and tenor voices greeted her entrance, announced by the tinkling bell above the door. She shut it quickly, leaving the harsh November chill outside and warmed herself in the fire-lit warmth of the dry goods store

by Claire Murray
“C’mon. You’ll really love it. The view is fantastic.”
“I don’t know, Doug. It sounds kind of scary. Why do you call it “The Drop”?
“Oh, it’s amazing. You’re walking along and there’s all sorts of trees and scenery and then… Boom! You’re at a drop-off. Go too fast and you could drop right off the edge.”