Words by Grace E Hall

The doors of the local WalMart swished opened and an outrush of warm air greeted us. We dashed inside at Ma's heels, waiting for the swish of the doors closing behind us to stop. I bounced up and down as my older brother Sam attempted to run in circles around the cart. “It's so cold out!” I burst out happily. It was Alabama, and cold weather meant feasting, gaiety, and general merriment to us. “And we're gonna get the Christmas tree tomorrow right, Ma?” said Sam as we went past the initial displays of candy canes and Christmas decor. The familiar tune of Jingle Bells Rock warbled in the background. “We sure are,” said Ma. Getting the Christmas tree was a much-looked-forward-to occasion, a sign that Christmas was really here. I squealed with excitement as I thought of it. I could almost see the tree, wrapped up in plastic mesh, and smell the piny smell as we stuffed it into the back of the van. . . hear the rhythmic scraping of Pa's saw trimming it in the thrillin...

Nobody felt like talking. All their focus seemed to be put into looking—looking both wonderingly at the surroundings and cautiously for unknown threats. Unconsciously they made every step as quiet as possible; the silence did not want to be disturbed, and every pebble clattering underfoot echoed dismally among the hollow stone structures. They followed the path of the carriage, two almost indistinguishable ruts in the ground, down and into the old city—more than old; incountably, magnificently old. The buildings were dark and stony obstructions on either side of them now. The view that they had had of the city's expanse was no longer there: but its memory remained, and they all knew that what they saw of it was only the slightest portion of what this city really was. Jingle chose not to stare too much at the darkened interiors of the buildings; they gave her a funny unpleasant feeling inside, and the blueish lights along the road were more interesting anyway. They were usuall...

At midnight, on a hot August night, I step quietly down the road to visit my grandparents house. Everything was dark. The stars glimmer overhead between the arching roofs of the houses. The street was still as still. I stare through the shadows and see two bright little blue eyes near the ground, staring back at me with curious interest. A long dark shape follows them around the corner and onto the cobbled street of Bendy Row.      MEEOOW!! I stopped and backed up so fast I tripped and sat down hard.   “Great heavens, stop that racket!” said a voice; and it was the sort of voice that was used to being soft and mellow, and now raised, it sounded well nigh squeaky. I peered cautiously around the corner and watched as the shadow moved along the side of a house. “You'll have the whole street awake in no time at all. What a way to begin.” “My infinite apologies, sir.” said a voice of very silky timbre indeed, and a second...

I plunged into the front seat of the van and turned it on. Instantly I flicked both heating dials up to their hottest extent as the cold outside air soaked through my winter coat. Swiftly I backed out of the driveway and away from home. As I had just got my license several months ago, driving the big blue van by myself still seemed strange and exciting. I grinned to myself as I turned left at the familiar stop sign, stretching my neck to see around our gigantic spiky clump of thistles lining the sidewalk.  No one was coming, so I pulled into the street beyond and picked up speed. I was on my way. I was supposed to drive down to the forest and pick up a load of cut strawberry seeds, the farthest I had ever driven on my own. It was winter, and we wanted the strawberries ready so that we could plant them early in the spring for next year. But, since both Ma and Pa were busy, it was me who had to go get them. This promised to be exciting.   However, after forty minutes...

  The silence was hollow.  It had a faint ringing echo to it that was indicative of a very enormous space indeed.  There was no way to know how big; since it was so dark; and that only made the place seem bigger and the action of stepping out of the iron carriage more daunting than ever.  They had known of the carriage’s existence for less than a day, and it was still a great mystery and wonder, but somehow, now it seemed like the only familiar thing they had; and the space outside altogether too strange and uncertain and unknown.  The carriage seemed safe in comparison; something solid and real amid a blank dark expanse of nothing.  None of them wanted to think about stepping out of the carriage into that horrible dark. The silence went on for a very long time – nobody knew exactly how long – before Gary’s voice spoke, trying to sound casual and failing badly. “Now what?” “I don’t know – I guess we have to get back,” said Beach’s voice rather shakily. Jing...