"Now, you will get under the table and one by one... you have to rub our panties.” I had been punished by Anna Trusseau. Laughingly, I played along and took my shirt off. I threw it across the room like a stripper and flexed various muscles. The girls hooted and hollered and I crawled under the table—I had no choice. I had lost a bet during one of her games—one, that could only happen at the private gathering of the Great...

My name is Kellan, and I moved to a small coastal town, Whitney Crest. I needed a change, and I swear it called to me. As if it said, you've fucked around long enough, get your ass home. The funny thing is, I'd never lived there before. I was tired of the big city. It could go bite itself in the ass. Tired of the traffic, tired of pavement. Tired of trying to sleep in a bed I once shared. I needed a new lifestyle. I was t...

I sat at the kids table, sipping punch from an impossibly small cup when Pipsy the Clown entered. Her painted green smile hung from ear to ear and a small rubber ball clung for life at the tip of her nose. “Hello everyone! I'm Pipsy the clown!” The children roared in excitement, much the way children do after fortyfive minutes of sugar cookies. But then as Pipsy spoke, their wild electric energy suddenly quelled to silent...

I walked into a small meditation room that was draped in soft pastels, flute music droned from an invisible speaker nearby. As I expected, a small indoor water fountain was plugged into a nearby socket and spewed recycled liquid tranquility. I was about to meet the great spirit Marguerite, a long dead, fifteenth century Queen as channeled via a forty-something housewife turned psychic, named Paula.Paula was quietly quirky...