Rider in the storm by Stephanie Dragone

It was a dark and stormy night. Jim hunched up against the rear door of the taxi, his sombre face silhouetted in the gloom. The musty odours of past passengers, stale beer and french fries clung fretfully to his clothes. As a parent, he thought, I have nurtured and loved my children. Yet here I am, lonely, abandoned, returning once again to the house of horrors. Not revenge but death with dignity, he repeated in his head. His arthritic hand clutched the packet of pills in his pocket as the driver pulled up outside The Sunshine Retirement Home.