Category: Silverwood I

Kate lifted her lucky yellow spatula out of the kitchen drawer.

Two pairs of feet belonging to Kate and Henry made pong-pong sounds on the metal stairway leading up to their apartment.

The school bell rang. Henry followed the flood of students out the front door of the school and down the steps to the city sidewalk.

Somewhere in the city, the back door of a nightclub swung open into an alley that would be about wide enough to drive a small car through if it weren’t so crowded with dumpsters and junk.

Today I found a couple of pictures in the bottom of a box that I’d never seen before.

An oversized and gleaming and black and otherwise featureless car rolled to a stop in front of Building 103.

One of the customary functions of the one main street in Brokeneck was as a meeting place, and it was also the custom for everyone with an overlooking window to spy on whoever was doing the meeting.

The chamber of the Council of Portals was abuzz with anxious voices talking over one another. Doctor Dinkle was not present.

Doctor Julius Dinkle, esteemed member of the Council of Portals and renowned expert on Tromindox behavior and culture, was tense.

According to the family stories, Helen’s grandmother was a person who possessed a superhuman ability to make just about anything out of the parts of just about anything else.

“Helen?” Henry said. He tapped his foot on the floor. He crossed his arms. He uncrossed his arms. He sighed loudly.

One thing that I can tell you with absolute certainty: It is not a good feeling to be extinct.

The bounty hunter was late for work.

Helen Silverwood, fourteen, sat on the roof with her legs dangling over. There were about twenty-two stories between the bottoms of her boots and the sidewalk below.