Into the Fall

by Tamara L. Miller

How had Matt managed to slip out to the bakery without leaving

a single trace in the snow? She held the puzzle for a moment, scarf in hand, before letting it trickle away like melting ice.

It was like that, grief. Dormant, but always ravenous, waking in its own time to steal away moments of contentment.

I know this all too well. Grief is hard

“The devil loves unspoken secrets. Especially those that fester in a man’s soul,”

The woods were savage, dark, and deep. And they kept their secrets.