EYE-WITNESS REPORT TRANSCRIPT RUSTIC FARMS, NEW HAMPSHIRE DISCOVERY SITE WITNESS: RICHARD A. FABIAN I had always wanted to hike; like really hike. None of these trails or pathways. Those are too linear. When I was little, my dad took me through a forest, and it was the most exhilarating hike […]
I was in a room. It looked like the ground floor of an office building. There was a desk with a receptionist, tapping away at a keyboard, and stairs leading up to the next floor. But the design… it was all white. I had to turn away at first, blinded
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As I slowly regained consciousness, I felt a wave of dullness wash over my fractured mind. I couldn’t move, much less remember what had happened before I passed out. My eyes burned as I opened them. I’d spent too much time in darkness to quickly adapt to the incessant flow
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Business trips are dreadfully boring, especially in my line of work. The only good thing about them? Hotels. The tedium of day-to-day dealings bookended with clean towels and a mint on my pillow. If I could live in one, I surely would. There’s just something in the ambiance that soothes
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I stood still for a moment, awestruck. The pictures didn’t do it justice. It was a large but quaint home located on a secluded island near Cape Cod. A small piece of land void of life; only the cottage and a lighthouse visible across the water. Verified as an AirBnB
I happened upon the book at a kiosk in my town’s annual witchcraft festival. The seller, a young, red-haired woman, told me it was known as the Book of Memories. If you wrote down a recollection on one of its many blank pages and closed the book shut, it would
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I was referred by a temp agency. I had no idea who I would be working for, or what the job would entail. I only knew that the pay was good. A week-long excursion at $725 a night. More than enough to pay off a couple of credit card bills
For months, I caught glimpses of Claira from the safety of my cubical. So beautiful, faultless. Through innocent eavesdropping and pattern recall, I unknowingly learned almost every detail of her life; when she had lunch, who her friends were, and where she would be at any given moment of the
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August 4th, 1983; my mother is killed in a head-on collision by a drunk driver. The intoxicated individual took a turn onto an off ramp and floored it down the wrong side of the highway. It was the dead of night, and at 1:37 a.m., this drunkard collided with my
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She tried pulling herself back, but however hard she tried, however hard she pushed, she could not stop her feet dragging her towards the open window. She dug her heels into the wooden floor, feeling splinters coming off it as her feet dragged her onward. Her hands caught the window-sill,
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I am a musician. Not a terribly great one, but still, I consider myself a musician. I can play with the best of them, and I know my way around an instrument or two. More importantly, I am a collector. A collector of various items ranging from the odd to
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I’d always known that my great-grandma was an orphan, but in late October of last year, she decided to tell me the truth about what happened to her family. We were visiting her for her birthday. It was a tradition in our household; a road trip we knew in the
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Jobs come and go. That’s part of the beauty of living in America – you can change jobs freely if you aren’t happy. It’s a luxury not everyone in the world has. For years and years, my life was consumed by business – retail, specifically. It wasn’t my plan…I sort
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My grandfather never spent that much time with me, growing up. When I heard the news of his passing, all I could muster was a tone of indifference in the form of empty condolences. My lack of sympathy turned to guilt when I heard he left me everything he owned.
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My mom hates her father. Grandfather Jack’s name might as well have been a swear word when I was growing up. Dad told me the story once, on the condition that I never tell mom I knew. Jack was married to my Grandmother Kathy for 22 years before he
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*** *** When I was a young girl, I developed a love for plush. Large, small, velveteen, cotton – no stuffed animals were off limits. I received one on every gift-giving occasion; before long, I had quite the collection. Though I loved all of my stuffed animals, one in particular
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The things that haunt a man the most, are not usually the choices that he’s made, but rather the choices that he never did make. I’ve lived through some of the worst hells that you could ever imagine. 9,490 of them to be exact. Every night when I
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I recently inherited my grandfather’s rural home. A log cabin buried deep within 100 acres of woodland— a picturesque scene untouched for decades and a perfect dwelling that I am now proud to call my own. I would spend the weekends here as a child. The wooded paths,
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There I was, scratching my ninth scratch-off ticket in a row at my local convenience store. My eyes widened with hope, but also sank in with the anticipation of disappointment. The other eight representations of my gambling fuel rested in pieces inside the store’s waste bin. Revealing each number using
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I graduated from high school a few years back. I still live with my parents, but I’m using this time to my advantage. They’re kind enough not to charge rent and that allows me the ability to save up almost every penny I make. The hope is that I can
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I stepped up to the dilapidated red building, grinning from ear to ear. This is what brought me thrills in life; abandoned structures across America. This particular one was in Stoneychurch State Park, located in a rural town just south of the state border. I had been dreaming
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It’s funny how the strangest traditions seem ordinary when you’ve grown up around them. One of my friends can’t get through Thanksgiving dinner without someone spanking the turkey, and another kid in my high school said they threw a tea party to celebrate every A. I’ve heard about
I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better. Even if I could go back, what would I have done differently? Could I have changed what happened? Could I have done anything at all? Probably not. Even so, I can’t help but dwell on the details. Some nights, it
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Dating sucks as an adult. The only way to meet new people is either on the internet or in a bar, and I’m not comfortable trying to start a relationship with someone I’ve come across in either of those scenarios. At 28 years old, not being romantically interested in any
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