Memory Jam
Another (slightly creepy) unpublished story. I don't remember what prompted it, but I've always liked it. I just could never figure out who to sell it to...
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JIMMY CONKLIN SAT at Granny Noggin’s kitchen table, right hand wrapped around a water-beaded glass of milk, left hand holding a CD-sized chocolate-chip cookie. More cookies covered a blue china plate on the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. Slivers of rainbow, whittled from the sunlight by a silver-and-crystal spider-web sun-catcher in the window above the sink, splashed every surface in the kitchen with splotches of brilliant colour.
“I love your kitchen, Granny Noggin,” Jimmy said.
Granny Noggin poured tea into a gold-rimmed pink china cup and brought it over the table. She sat down across from Jimmy. “I love
