Two short stories by Annay Dawson:
Espionage and Eggs:
It was just past three in the morning and there she was in the mud and muck. She lay without moving and barely breathing, hoping that they wouldn’t find her…
Mind the J's and W's:
They were sitting in the backroom of some small and really dirty hovel. It had been bombed out last year and hadn’t been used since then. The place was perfect. It was nowhere near any other homes or businesses although that wasn’t too hard to do in this province. It helped that the rest of the places had been bombed out during the last year and it had made the place really uninhabitable. . .