Now, before you read this, take note, I am a very critical skeptic, I am quick to dismiss any claims of psychics, fortune tellers, hell even aliens, but I am positive about what happened in that house. Guerneville, a small town in Northern California, never...

Wednesday, July 12th, 2017 The dynamic of memory has confounded me for my entire life. Memory is itself a living being, eternally aging until it decays and fades away. Each memory lives through its life cycle. Full of vitality in birth and hollow and weak in...

I stepped up the old, wooden steps of the porch, to what would be our new home. It was nice enough. It had a big back yard (fenced in with barbed wire) with a massive tree and a sturdy-looking tire swing. Most importantly, the neighboring...

Farrah stared up at the dark old house, with its boarded-up windows and doors, creaky wrap around porch, and flecks of paint so weather-worn it was no longer discernible what color it had once been. It was in need of some serious attention that was...

Odds are, you’ve been to a zoo before. If you’re like me when I was a kid, you might be disappointed to find that the lions and tigers don't fight, roar, or do much of anything besides yawn and lounge around. If you’re really lucky,...

Many of you reading this will believe it’s a work of fiction. But I’m currently sitting in my friend’s room while I type this, both of us terrified of what might happen next. The only thing I can tell you for certain is that every...

The collection of mountains that make up Oregon's Cascade Range, due west of Portland, have a particular quality. They hold the promise of incredible vistas and secret vantage points. Each forested crag invites climbing like few other places in the world. This promise is rewarded when,...

My name is Wess Kellerman and to save time, I will spare you all the agony of reading my whole life story and keep the details of who I am concise. I’m twenty five years old with short blonde hair and green eyes. I go...

Folds of grass mounds dipped and rose as we climbed the cliffs. At their peak an old cottage stood, the time of its construction long forgotten. We drove, and had been driving, for hours. It was all I knew how to do. Our house foreclosed,...

She fell in love with the cottage as soon as she saw it. We’d driven for an hour, and, at first, my wife had been the most unsure of us both, but once we were standing in front of it, she was sold. It was...

There are two main routes that one can use to get from Napa to San Francisco. The first curves around through Emeryville, crosses over the Bay Bridge, and eventually arrives in the Financial District. Every mile of the journey is well-lit, populated, and dotted by...