“Alopecia areata, he thought, running a hand over his smooth scalp. His pale skin looked sickly in the light of the fluorescent lamp above the mirror. Unexplained hair loss.” — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“thick trees stood on either side of the wide front door. A thick stone wall, nearly as tall as Shane’s father, protected the whole… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“The first thing Rick noticed was the lack of noise. No birds sang in the trees. No squirrels ran across the yard.” — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“The music washed over Shane as he stepped into a dimly lit space. Thick rugs covered the floor, and stacks of written music were… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“nasty, priggish colonel.” “How did you kill him?” Frank asked, looking up into Jack’s eyes. “I twisted his head off his neck, I did,”… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“Words are power. And a few have the ability to end lives. They say the pen is mightier than the sword. This is true,… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“The many joys of leadership, he thought, chuckling. “What’s funny?” Larry asked, looking at him. “Just thinking of the parents,” Mitchell replied. Larry rolled… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“Don’t be mad at Dave because Marilyn’s dead, Mitchell scolded himself. He means well. One of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard him say,… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“Northfield Free Academy, there was a long and proud tradition of seniors who attempted to do the seemingly impossible. In 1972, the senior class… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“She doesn’t like ducks,” Shane said, nodding. “I’ve seen a couple of dead ducks before my dad fishes them out. He says they died… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“Bruce, what’s going on?” Larry asked when he picked up. “You need to come here,” Bruce said. “You need to come over to Deer… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“The strange stairwell was dim, and Shane could barely see a door at the top. The sound of the violin came through it and… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“I will. You are not afraid of the dead?” “Not all of the dead,” he said.” — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
“Alopecia areata, he thought, running a hand over his smooth scalp. His pale skin looked sickly in the light of the fluorescent lamp above… — Ron Ripley Copy Share Image
