Jhudora's Brush

by cherokee165

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Great stories!

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Janet and Jane: The Case of the Framed Detectives: Part Five
"Janet," the note began. "I know you know about what's been happening. I've been framed for something I did not do. I know you, and your first instict would be to check it out. Don't.

by chasing_stars44

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He'd Have To Wait
The foliage was springy underpaw as Lopez stepped through the jungle, a camera strung around his neck. After a pawstep, the leaves would jump right back up to where they had been a second before. As the Kougra walked on, the sun grew fainter and fainter, the surroundings growing dark. Bright green plants changed into dark bushes as he walked on.

by jrayeb3

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Current Weather
A hairy situation.

Also by blonde_and_lovin_it2

by certifiabletrash

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Heavy Metal
A Mote. A particle, or speck of dust. A tiny, inconsequential amount of something, usually pictured floating off to nowhere. A little bit of somethingness to punctuate the nothingness. This might be what always made me uneasy, when I thought of motes - that emphasis of space. At least, I think it was; before that day, when I started thinking something else.

by placebo_533

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