The sunset—a riot of reds, golden yellow, and plum purple—slayed my foul mood.

If these truly were the end days, she wondered, than what was the point of doing homework.

As the tension built almost to breaking the night sounds suddenly stopped and with a rustle and a snap the killing was over.

The perfect comeback died on his lips.

There was something about blustery days and sad music that Alice deeply loved.

The twist of the knife was a twist of fate that left her twisting in the wind.

They shoved the Halloween junk into the storage room and cranked up "Jingle Bells" on the store's sound system.