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Author: Leann McCoy

The Lyco Factor: Chapter One

Chapter One – Late Winter, Year 2030 – Border of South Memphis Manna rubbed Nickel’s cheek softly as he nuzzled his face into her shoulder. “Keep to the shadows. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He kissed her forehead as Nickel kept his hands clutched close to her heart. His lips lingered against her skin a second longer, and then he let go, pulling his hands from hers. With a final look around, he pulled the rusted crow bar from his belt loop and ran across the darkened street. Once there, he turned around and gave her a quick...

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Without Words

 Most of my days were filled with chaotic silence.  Silence. How can I actually say that word with having two fully active boys? They scream, they whoop, and they holler, mostly at each other or sometimes me. Most of my days were filled with silence because there was no one I could talk to that would truly understand. Someone that could understand that my oldest son, we’ll call him Gray, is on the mild to moderate side of the autism spectrum. In my case, Gray is mostly non-verbal and sometimes aggressive, but gives the sweetest hugs when he’s in...

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Sweet Tea and Sarcasm #6

I’ve recently had a strong hankering for pickles. Not that kind of pickle, you perv. I’ve had a craving for those eerily vinegar tasting delicacies you find on every hamburger in the continental United States. I had a jar in the refrigerator. Grabbing up the green freaks of nature, I opened, pulled one out, and bit. And then realized why I’ve always hated dill pickles. They’re a briny, salty, vinegary mess. Now, I’m not hating on all pickles. Just dill.  I love me some bread and butter pickles. Those sweet, wonderful little delicacies. I could even slurp the juice...

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Sweet Tea and Sarcasm #5

Almost every adult has one specific item in their household. It takes up space, and they think it needs to be thrown away. But for some reason, they keep it wherever they keep it. In my household, I keep this item in my broom closet. It’s my Swiffer broom attachment that I hardly ever used until I moved. The pads are uber-expensive and don’t work worth a crap in my house. They’ll pick up all the hair and small dust bunnies, but they won’t touch the multiple layers of crumbs that seem to get missed. I don’t even use...

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Sweet Tea and Sarcasm #4

Now everyone has that one friend or two. This person might also be a family member. The culprit loves to drink. And when I mean drink, I mean sloppy, falling down, make the preacher blush drunk. This person’s house may look like it belongs on an episode of Hoarders while sober, but watch out when they’re drunk. They may remember the start of the evening. Those first few shots of Hot Damn start to kick in good and hard. They start looking around at the cluttered junk and decide Well, hot damn. I need to clean, paint, or do...

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