Joyce looked around her room. She was in her bra and panties since a little while ago Sam had nearly ruined her dress. That was total madness. She wore sensible underwear, as she did almost always. Except for a few frilly numbers she had tucked away for special occasions with her husband Paul. The t-shirt she’d slept in last night was still on the dresser. She pulled it on. Something had to be done about Sam. Joyce knitte...

Sam skipped out of the alley behind the 7-11 and turned onto the old train tracks. Weeds scraped along his ankles. The faint scent of creosote rose up from the weathered wood beneath him. He hopped from one tie to the next. His brown eyes scanned the ground. The weight of his backpack cut into his shoulders. He didn’t care. It was all about finding that next remarkable rock. It wasn’t the most direct route between school...