We are delighted that Bill Carito let us use one of his fabulous photographs that he took in Key West. Bill took this using his iPhone.

Jessie: It wasn’t waking up in an alley that bothered Frank. It was waking up in a purple alley that gave him the creeps.

Liz: It was the only place I could practice my painting without anyone else bothering me. The only place in the world I could have purple walls without having to hear about it every damn day.

Barb: The purple wave crested through the alleyway, leaving the walls bathed in a violent violet. “Wait!” I called to the kid’s retreating back. “What exactly did I take?”

Julie: She called it the alley of hope, painted after the never-ending winter of 2015, designed to be a happy place all winder long. The dead body took some of the happy out of the place.

Sherry: I raced down the alley, police hot on my tail. The ladder I placed there earlier was essential to my escape plan. I tossed the box of full of cardboard behind me as I skirted the trash cans, knocking the last one over. I hoped I’d remember which rungs were sturdy and didn’t land on one of the ones I’d cut through.

Edith: Thank the Goddess for the ladder. But I was never going to get Jake’s body up that thing. I guess I’d have to leave him to rot right here in the alley. The color he’ll turn,  he’s going to match those walls perfect.

Readers: Add your opening line!