Sketch: Volume 37, Issue 5
There are days when the little Horner boy sits alone in the corner and readies his thumb, concentrating hard on just what it is under that pie crust and anxious to find out what exactly he's getting into and all the time knowing that only the Shadow and Jack Armstrong know for sure and they ain't talking...
THE plump brown grasshopper hit with a small splash at his feet. Not bothering to land on its legs, it skidded and rolled almost as far as it jumped, before righting itself and leaping again. Laughing quietly at the insect, he looked up the road to the shimmering horizon...
YOU don't mind, do you?" He gestured with the bottle in his hand. "No, not at all."
Sunglassed, sliding to a jet, she practices A face, lets no one touch her lips or press In on her privacy. One intrusion Was enough to let her know, and so She pulls the purse tight to her, full of pain, Of promises in envelopes...
Dr. WILHELM Johannsen sat on an empty crate. Steam rolled horn his tin cup. He sipped coffee between puffs on a thick brown cigar. A mist soaked his wool coat...