I’m a researcher studying Canada Geese for the last ten years. I’ve never published my research. Specifically, my small team and I study a small population of Canada Geese that migrates to Arizona during the winter months from Alaska. This work mostly involves checking the new adults tagged during the […]
The Canada Geese of Lake Pleasant Read More »
I’m pretty freaked out. That thing has been there for almost a week. The figure in the window. It looks featureless, only skin on a human frame, and it’s pressing itself against the glass somehow. I don’t know how it got there, and I don’t know how to get rid
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The Old Lie of the Dead Lands ‘frankness as never before, disillusions as never told in the old days, hysterias, trench confessions, laughter out of dead bellies. There died a myriad, And of the best, among them, For an old bitch gone in the teeth, For a botched civilization.’ –
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“Dad, you said you’d play catch with me!” I yelled as my father walked past me to his office, where he spent most of his days when he wasn’t at work. “I’m sorry, bud, I’ve gotta get these documents done for tomorrow’s big meeting. We’ll do it another day, okay?”
The Portal in the Woods Read More »
My name’s Abigail Stitcher. I’m 15 years old, and I think I’m being followed. You see, I live in a relatively small town, with a population of 1,476 or so. Birch Run, they call it. Nothing’s ever really happens there, aside from the occasional fire or robbery committed by some
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In central Vermont you have to drive to get just about anywhere. In high school, once I had my own car, I built up a mental map of roads good and bad, this giant web linking my house, my school, my friends’ houses, my mom’s work, my dad’s house, my
The Strigil Institute Read More »
“Speak louder, please.” I put my hand up next to my ear from the back of the room, signaling that she would need to raise her voice. She took a deep breath. I could see anxiety turning her cheeks beet red, as strands of blonde hair began to fall out
Mommy Sleeps in the Basement Read More »
Part 1 In 1997, my friend (who we’ll call Chris) moved across state. At that time, we were 10, we didn’t really have much of a way to see each other besides getting a ride by our parents to one or the other’s house, which would be a hassle for
My name is Oliver Stricc. I’m a 52-year-old biology teacher from a small town in northeastern Nebraska, and I have been for almost 14 years. I’ll be the first to admit that lecturing to a bunch of uninterested high school students wasn’t what I had planned to do after getting
My Students Are Disappearing Read More »
Part 1 There are only a handful of events in your life that you remember where you were. For many Americans such as myself, 9/11 was one. For the older generation, the assassination of John F. Kennedy was another. For me? The day my parents died. I hope no one
I Found a Series of Video Tapes in My Basement Read More »
Tinnitus: a nightmare of a disease affecting millions of people, myself included. How could I best describe this condition? An incessant, nail on a chalkboard screeching that goes on for every minute of every day. Just imagine never experiencing the true bliss of utter silence. Maybe it’s not too uncommon
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The night was young. In our world at least. 2:14 AM, and me and my husband Ricky were standing out in the open shed behind The Post Searchlight. Stanwyck, Georgia’s local newspaper. Like nocturnal detectives, Ricky and I were wired for the graveyard shift. You had to be when you did
At 4 AM a Weird SUV Started Following Us Read More »
The sun was shining brightly overhead that particular afternoon, and the sound of birds chirping greeted Sarah as she made her way out of her school. It had been a long day, that particular day, and she was looking forward to going home, and relaxing for the weekend. Sarah was
Right now, I’m sitting up in my bed. It’s late at night and the only light is the screen of my laptop. I’m sure it’s illuminating my face quite nicely. I just hope my poker face is convincing enough to whatever is watching me. I think as long as I
Part 1 I am dead. Well, at least the real me is. You see, this body I’m using to write this isn’t mine. I stole it. Don’t worry, I won’t be using him for too long. Once I’m done writing this all out, I’ll give it back to him. He
This story is part of the author’s Heavensville series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. The first thing I noticed about him was his shaggy, champagne-colored hair that reached down to his shoulders and how
Hello. I am Sarah. I am eight years old and I live in Wainsbury which is in England. My family is Mummy, Daddy, Josh and Peter. Peter is a rabbit. He is white. I have a question that I hope you can answer for me. How do I take off
How Do I Take Off My Skin? Read More »
This story is part of the author’s Heavensville series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. Heavensville was stunning to look at, with tall and lush trees lining the sidewalks, beautiful forests and lakes surrounding almost
“No, I’m going to stay in. It’s been a long day and the most I intend to do tonight is hand out candy.” “Lame. Look, just for once, ignore your spinster instincts and come to Jackson’s. We’ll get sloppy drunk and play strip Twister.” “Sounds like a blast.” “I already
What do people usually fear when moving out to live on their own? What sort of problems does one normally encounter when finally venturing from the safety of their parents’ home, into a place of their own? Perhaps it’s paying their rent on time, or having to do all
I’m writing this while I still have control of my body. There needs to be a record of what’s happening to me, so if it happens to you, at least you’ll know—you’re not alone. I can’t explain what’s going on. I can’t offer any answers. But I can give you this warning—OBEY THE PATTERN. If it comes, whatever the pattern tells you—do it. Or you’ll end up like me.
Everyone has their fears, whether they are rational or irrational. Mine has always been dolls. Not all dolls, mainly just the ones that are a bit too human. I think it’s mainly the eyes that get to me. So I’m sure you can imagine I was ecstatic to find out
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My son is 2 years old and does. Not. Sleep. So when I saw an ad online for Goodnight Precious: the only book GUARANTEED put your child to sleep, I clicked. I was skeptical — but there was a video demonstration on the website. “I’m going to show you how this works.
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Scratching an itch on my back, I found a hollow the size of a tack head. At my bathroom mirror I rolled my shoulder forward. Next to my shoulder blade, on my upper middle back, was a tiny hole. No plug, like a normal blackhead, but a deep hole. I watched my finger in the mirror, prodding it.
