#afterdusk.open

there were to be years of rest to be had, years of wanderlust as well. this year for aubrey ichabod was a year of the ladder. a year of joy, of laughter, of- “a land of fun?” he muses, a smiling curling. a year of fun. few things could rival awakening to stride headfirst into a land worshipping such a thing. they look beyond, infatuated by the blinking lights and sounds of whirring machinery. she places her hand on a strangers shoulder with unintentional force, grabbing their attention. “tell me, what oddities are housed here at this.. ‘funland?'”

nails tapped against a display, bored. bibi had thought of a million other things shed rather be spending her time doing, things that would be more worthy of her time, while tending the music store. singing, sewing, acting, the list goes on. all of them completely unfeasible while chained to the shackles of the register. a bell chimed, finally. something interesting, hopefully. “welcome to powersound music store, where we provide the most powerful sound to all of crystal cove and coolsville." she thought the slogan had been a mouthful for twenty years, but she had still yet to come up with a better one.

“listen- i didnt do anything to that old dude, okay! i know, ‘it’s mel- the guy whose always up to shit.' i get it, i get it, but-" not uncommon was the stammering and stuttering of a criminal with a lengthy history. mel always seemed to have a defense when inevitable justice came knocking. even being cleared by the police department hadnt stopped many judgmental stares from falling on him. “it wasn't me- okay? i don't care about old dudes who like to get lost in the woods.”

' it's positively tragic about mr. jones. ' sally hummed softly as she sat across the other dining on the outside patio , staring at the newspaper and the police bulletin plastered on the front. ' to think , our silent woods would lurk something so sinister. ' sometimes she was the very thing that lurked in the woods but she wasn't going to announce that out loud.