I was ready to die. It’s funny; we, as human beings, like to imagine ourselves as fighters. We like to think that when death grips us by the throat, prepared to drag us into whatever beyond awaits us, that we’ll instinctively resist, either out of desperation to live or even
This happened years ago, but it is still something that sticks with me. This all happened like a sequence. You never know if things are supposed to happen for a reason or if some unknown outside force influences it. But first, a backstory. My friend, let’s call her Jenny, was
The Thing I Saw the Day My Friend Died Read More »
My family visited my grandparents’ farm every summer, where my mother and my aunt Bernadette grew up when they were children. It was roughly a four-hour drive from the city we lived in, and we would pass other small villages, crop fields, paddocks with cattle grazing, and birch and pine
It had been roughly a year. That’s how much time had passed since Jessica died. She was and still remains the love of my life. I thought that time would heal my wounds, but they instead grew with each passing moment I was forced to spend without her. I could
My Wife, the Fox Spirit Read More »
I know there are thousands of people who don’t believe in God, or the devil. I wish I was telling you a God fearing story of how an angelic being appeared and changed my whole fucked up life, but this is not one of those stories. I’m not sure if
“I could feel his muscle tissues collapse under my force. It’s ludicrous these mortals even attempt to enter my realm.” – Mike Tyson ROUND 0 The singular incandescent light bulb isn’t nearly large enough to illuminate this dingy locker room. Darkness surrounds both me and my trainer, it seems like
“Mama, can I pllleeease have a popsicle?” Lily’s face puckered into an adorable little pout. At just four years old, she was quite persistent, and knew just how to be persuasive with her mother when she didn’t have her way. Her baby blues widened as she heaved another desperate prompt
It was late September when I traveled north to the Great Lakes. It was one of the last stops for the last chapter of my book, starting with the eastern most part of Michigan and slowly making my way up to the Canadian border of Minnesota learning all I can
“I guess it’s more like a numbness. Like when a leg or arm falls asleep. Whenever I move, there’s a disconnect. It feels like my limbs aren’t mine. Like I’m controlling a marionette version of myself, from somewhere far off.” “What about when you try to touch something?”, he asked.
I Came to Take You Away From This Place Read More »
Did you ever look a loved one in the eyes and not recognize what you see? The face is the same, but there’s something…else. Something that wasn’t there before. Something that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but you don’t know why. When my wife
It Came Back Instead Read More »
The Journal of Tomas Wicker November 3, 1910 There are a thousand ways to die in the Colombian rainforest. I first gained this appreciation as a boy when, in a questionable bit of parental inspiration, father allowed me to accompany him to inspect our family’s South American holdings, in particular
I didn’t have a voice until you read this. Let me explain — I was voiceless but I still existed. We all did. We have been here ever since the first men peered fearfully out of their caves into the deep, still darkness beneath a moonless sky and thought: ‘What
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“Hun, I’m home,” Dylan said as he walked into the house, shutting the door behind him. The apartment was beautiful, for a building that was built in 1812. The old schoolhouse now was home to 4 apartments. The apartment itself was beyond perfect for just the two of them. The
Alien invasions. It’s been so overdone it’s turned into a never ending cliché. There are hundreds of films. I’ve watched them all, loved them all. Now, they just make me sick. The pickup I’m driving shakes as I brake, the ABS is stuck on due to an internal computer malfunction.
They Came from the Sea Read More »
Witch Based on True Events I guess I don’t know where to start. The beginning would be the obvious place, but I don’t know what the beginning was. The whispers? The shadows? Objects moving by themselves? Electronics going haywire? Or was it the first time I actually saw it? Soulless
This was Peter’s favorite time of year, late fall. Almost all the leaves had fallen from the trees and the crisp, cool temperatures made for almost perfect weather for him. Peter was a mailman in a somewhat affluent suburb of the city, doing one of the few remaining runs that
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I was never a believer in the supernatural. I didn’t care for all those illogical ghost stories, and I always mocked my friends for telling them. They aren’t real; they can’t be. At least, not until I figured it out the hard way. It was the end of August, right
My brother and I bought the camp in Des Allemands for a song. It was an old trapper’s cabin, set back down a bayou, well off the main lake and back in the swamp. It had no electricity, no water, no modern appliances, and needed some work. A while back,
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“Have you seen the Blaganschlor Hung by rope composed of gore Who says his name and nothing more His true name lost in days of yore? At the gray and barren meadow Where ancient rivers used to flow The dying light of summer’s glow Will call him from the dark
My eyelids were heavy and sandy, and they begged me for sleep. The conditions were perfect for it. The overhead lamps in my living room were switched off and the only light came from the TV, which created shadows that shifted across the room as the images on the screen
What are you doing right now? Are you slumped on your couch mindlessly flipping through the TV channels? Are you tiredly scrolling through your Facebook feed for the fiftieth time today? Well shut that stuff down, and get off of your lazy bum because we’re going on an adventure. What?
Cynthia smacked, howled and screamed against Todd Barrett’s motel room window that night. Times like these, he was glad he hadn’t fully committed to “tramping,” and bought himself a fifth-wheel. Sleeping in a camper on a night like this would have been impossible. Instead, he had a soft bed below
By the edge of the cliff sat the man without wills. I approached him reluctantly while the mountains were asleep. He turned his head to face me and his expression was blank. “Have you come to ask me your one question?” asked the man. “Yes,” I replied. It is known
The Sentence Kneels Read More »
This was not here yesterday, Richard thought to himself as he stepped on the bulge in the hardwood floor. He leaned forward onto his right foot, placing as much force as he could on the raised area to test if it would give beneath his weight. It did not budge
