(Editor’s note: this is a flash-fiction by Daniel R. Jones, the editor-in-chief of Short Tale Shrew) 10-39 It was 1:27 a.m. when I awoke to a knock on our front door. “Wasn’t Kaylee’s curfew midnight?” I asked my husband as I rose and peered through the blinds. Two policemen wearing navy-blue peaked caps stood on … More 10-39