quickhoney: fear beta




I may be living in an oasis,

Where the sun shines on a daily basis.

Florida has beautiful flowers and beaches,

But what it may be hiding are deadly leeches.

Dark shadows are following me right now.

I need to escape but I don’t know how.

I don’t want to become like that dead woman.

I don’t even know if the shadows are human.




1 we open at sunset

“we open at sunset.”



The sun lowers its head in the darkening sky.

A young man pedals his bicycle.

He parks beneath the striped awning,

rushing to his wilting plants.

He brings them into the store.

I cross the street and peek into the window.

The man tends to the leaves with a mister.

He arranges them on a table beneath the window.

The plants straighten their stems.

Their leaves spread wide to hold each other’s hands.

The man steps back with a grin on his face.

Our eyes meet through the glass.

He holds my gaze before turning away.

He’s seen me.

The handsome man moves closer to the door.

His eyes seek mine.

I hold my breath.

A slow smile crosses his face,

dimpling his cheeks beneath sculpted cheekbones.

He waves for me to enter.

I open the glass door as the bell chimes.

The fragrant scent of flowers rises to my nose.

I stand beside the tall man.

Together, we watch the plants as they stretch their stems

toward the rays streaming through the window.

I whisper, “Why do you wait a whole day to water them?”

He faces me. 

“This is the way,” he says.

I scrunch my nose. “What way?”

He smiles.

His dimples reappear. 

“The way of the prior owner

who told me to water them at sunset.”

“What would happen if you forgot?” I ask.

He stares through the window.

“These are special plants that must be watered,”

he replies,

“the same time every day or else they die.”

“Amazing,” I murmur.

The plants glisten in the orange glow

from the sun before it retreats to bed.

The plants drop their hands.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He smiles. 

“They go to sleep.”


His dark blue gaze falls on me. 

“Would you like to accompany me to dinner this evening?”

My heart pounds. 

“Will you tell me about the plants?” I ask.

His dimples deepen. 

“Of course. And we can even share our names.”

I giggle. 

“That’s right. I don’t know yours.”

“But I know yours, Amy.”


He takes my hand,

placing it in the crook of his arm. 

“All will be explained.”




Shades of red fall from the sky,

Puddles of crimson from high.

I’m covered by the bloody hue.

I refuse to stay here with you.


Time travel has brought us here.

I refuse to live in fear.

A fake town is not for me.

Why can’t you let me be free?


Demons hide in this forsaken place.

Don’t bother to show me your true face.

I know what you really are.

From here, I want to be far.