The sound of the doorbell echoed through my empty house like a banshee’s wail. It was Halloween night, and I was alone. Not by choice, but because it was my ex’s turn to take our kids, Lily and Ben, trick-or-treating. The custody agreement was part of the divorce proceedings. Though […]
The Unanswered Doorbell: A Halloween Nightmare Read More »
Last summer, I started going on walks at night. It was a good way to relieve myself from the stresses of life: most oppressing of which were work and trying to be a good parent for my daughter. It was easier during the school year when she would be at
Good afternoon, welcome. Please, please, make yourself comfortable back there. What’s the destination? Alrighty, one sec. Let me just type that in here on the GPS. Oh, yeah, okay. I actually made a stop past that neighborhood just the other day. Shouldn’t be too hard to navigate to. Probably would
Taxi, at Your Service Read More »
I’m writing this journal to collect my thoughts and leave a record for my children, so they can understand why I’ve taken these actions. Because, when all’s said and done, everything I do is to protect my family and to make sure they have a home to come back to
My neighbour is a monster. He must be stopped Read More »
I have sat with the knowledge of that night for ever such a long time now. I have flirted with the idea of telling someone – maybe the police – or confiding in a counselor, but I know it will do little good. They would think me mad, even my
The bright, shining, neon sign read Life Store. It was peculiar, not just because the wording of it didn’t make much sense; what would one sell at a Life Store?; but because I had passed this lot on my way to work countless times before and seen nothing of the
“Can we go on the roller coaster?” “Sure we can,” Kent assured his son, whose eyes brimmed with hope and enthusiasm. Little Brian ran ahead towards the ride as his father walked quickly behind. It was one of those old, rickety coasters that won’t keep you from falling out unless
One contrary wheel wobbled erratically as Thomas Moon pushed against the weighted shopping cart. He looked down at the mountain of Christmas presents and imagined his poor wallet gasping for air and fainting in a huff. He smiled as his wife, Christine, waddled up to the cart carrying what seemed
There’s a small village out in Alabama called Saint’s Glen. You won’t find it on any map, at least not since 1965. But you can still find the remnants of the town. If you follow the river southwest of Thomasville, you’ll find it, somewhere in the woods between Jackson and
Tap. Tap. Tap. It must be raining. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blaire rolled over. Knock. Damn tree branch. Tap. Tap. Tap. She pushed the blanket off her head and surveyed the darkness from where she lay in bed. Beyond the crack in the window curtains on the other side of the
Reflections of the Majorette Read More »
