“The Stranger Outside the Shop” by Aaron Fox-Lerner
Right when I thought things were getting better, the stranger showed up . . .
Right when I thought things were getting better, the stranger showed up . . .
January in the North Country—the dark comes on quick. In the moonrise, the skeletal branches of the birch trees throw thin shadows on the glowing blue snow . . .
JR was a precocious boy who loved to watch TV . . .
It’s three in the morning, the orange sulfur lamps bleach the black sky, and for a moment I think it’s the sun rising over the skyline, but then the darkness recedes back into my vision. It’s always night here; this place never sleeps . . .
I looked out my apartment window through the Venetian blinds down at a street full of shadows . . .
Full disclosure was the term they used. Before I moved my family, my life, everything. It’s an easy job really, being sheriff. Quiet most nights. Some drunks, wife abusers, the occasional meth head. And the mutilations. We don’t expect you to solve them or anything, but you need to be aware . . .
The teenage boys sat low on a curb behind the loading docks, employee parking, and emergency exits of the East Towne Mall, Lancaster County’s finest local shopping center . . .
He was painfully aware of his sweat. It oozed out of his pores and swam down his temples and cheeks without bothering to bead. His T-shirt was stuck to the flat mounds of his breasts . . .