The Sugar Shack
By Michael P. Thomas
“Once upon a time…”
“Really?” Gretel rolled her eyes. ”Cuz what, you’re a Grimm brother now?”
“Anyone can start a story with ‘The other day,’” Hansel said. “Excuse me for trying to add a little bit of flair to our dreary lives.”
“You leave that to me,” Gretel scolded.
Strutting the sidewalk in thigh-high, lace-up platform boots and a sleeveless, hip-length, feather-strewn river of sequins, the six-foot-six drag queen took any reference to a lack of flair quite personally. She could tell when Hansel was being facetious, of course—most of the time—but he was the one who’d wriggled back into his (spectacularly form-fitting) jeans and walked away from a big-money modeling career to pursue a pipe-dream passion for black and white photography. He wasn’t
