I am a chronic sleep talker. Always have been. Everyone who’s ever slept in the same house as me will tell you that. My parents, siblings, friends, and especially my exes. They’re the ones who got an ear-full. It was something we’d laugh about in the morning, because most of what I’d say …
In my hometown, there is a unique shop of oddities called “HexWorks” that I frequent. It’s an old-world boutique that specializes in niche products that I’d describe as being vintage-style with a modern spin. Their items include cloaks, pocket watches, lapels, bizarre art prints, lavish jewelry, and Victorian home decor, among other curiosities. …
As a freelance convention planner, I stay at many hotels over the course of a year. I spend about a week per trip in an all-expenses-paid suite of my choosing, doing nothing but studying the location and interviewing the staff on hand to get a feel for the hotel and its traffic. I then spend …
The house I grew up in was right next to a set of busy railroad tracks.  From my bedroom window, I could watch the trains roll by.  There were three types of trains that used those tracks and still do to this day. There were the long, lumbering freight trains pulling boxcars, flatbeds, and tankers, which I …
It was the year of my 25th birthday that my dad told me he was sick. It was hard to hide, really. Obvious. But I suppose it would be hard for such a mountain of a man, someone whoâd never needed help from anyone, to admit that, he was, in fact dying. Cancer is a …
John Watkins warmed himself by the fire crackling in the grate. Orange embers scuttled over the logs, clutched at the brick, stole away like a timid lover. He listened to the low hum of the men talking. It was soothing to hear the murmuring in the low-lit drawing room, as gentle laughter and the clink …
Would you believe me if I told you that genies were real? They are, but they’re not like anything you’d expect them to be. The stories say that you have to rub a magic lamp to get them to come out, but that’s only half true. It doesn’t have to be a bottle. It can …
Youâd never guess it at first, but itâs sad to live the life of a candyman. He absorbs all the worldâs pain and returns it as sweetness. âHaving a bad day? A swizzle stickâll wipe those tears away! Donât be glum, the candymanâll be your chum!â Those were the words written in chipped red paint …
The memories from which I write and record in the diary are strained, at best. Frequent attempts of the doctors to convince me that what I experienced was surrealistic. The vivid appearances only limited to the realm of dream and fantasy. As they have attempted to convince me of this repeatedly, it strengthens my acceptance …
There was nothing strange about Amber. She wasnât too tall or too short. She was of average height and weight. She wasnât ugly but she wasnât pretty either and her grades, although passing, were never top marks. She lived in an average house, with an average family, in an average town. Her father worked an …
This story happened when I was about 13 years old. It was a hot summer afternoon and my buddy and I were bored and looking for something to do. For the purposes of this story, I will refer to my friend as Hank. Hankâs older brother heard us talking about how bored we were and …
December 23, 1975 Brookfield, Montana 1 AM To John, it didnât seem as if it was going to get colder. But to his dismay, it did. The temperature on the train he rode on stated it was 45 degrees, even with the heaters. The train with its beautiful Christmas decorations was an extraordinary sight to …
Well you really screwed up this time, didnât you? You found a gnarly deal on a beautiful home that almost seemed too good to be true, and you jumped at it. And now that youâre all moved in, youâve started to notice some anomalies. You know the type: the spooky-dooky anomalies of the supernatural persuasion. …
My father is a construction manager and because of his career, we have to move around the country every few years. In my 15 years, I have lived in six different states: New Mexico, Illinois, Minnesota, Colorado, Louisiana, and now Kansas. This past summer, my father was hired to work on a project near Wichita, …
In the spring of 1953, when I was nine years old I saw my brother die. Iâll remember that day for the rest of my life. The memory has never left me and it never will. Part of it is the trauma, the slow, insidious realization that he was gone, that crept into my life afterward. But there is more to it that I donât talk about. Iâve held onto it for years, and I donât want to hold onto it any longer.
Hello. My name is Raymond Daws. This recording should be considered my last will and testament. It is intended for whomever takes possession of this house at 12874 N. Pryor Road. After setting aside some money for family and other concerns, I should have approximately three hundred thousand dollars left to my name, give or …
I know they say Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but for me it’s Halloween. I deck the hall with cobwebs and fake spiders. It’s just such a special time. Autumn is here and the leaves are beginning to fall. It’s a time for dressing up and suspending reality. We sit in …
I live in a country where, unfortunately, Halloween is not a big thing. Itâs almost not a thing at all, and this fact disappoints me to no end. Iâm a bored 19-year-old living in a small town where everyone I know still acts like they did when they were 14. So you understand why I …
During my junior year of college, I was on a bit of a bender. My high school girlfriend finally called it quits for the third time and the lure of the one night stand caught in the sweaty mist of beer and perfume was too much for my angry brain to withstand. I was a …
Katy took a long hit on the pipe. Her eyes rolled up and back into her head. She choked on the smoke that invaded her lungs, and an attempt at a giggle was unsuccessful. Her blue eyes watered and her almost-laugh was strangled by another coughing fit. âIâm gonna die!â she managed to cough out. …
The land beyond the bridge had been in my family for generations, forty-four acres of farmland. Â My father was as rooted to it as the oak tree in our front yard. Although he was sympathetic to my plight, he was certainly not going to move just because his daughterâs college boyfriend had killed himself two …
Driving down the road far from home, on my way back from work – Iâm surrounded by pastures and rural country houses. Late in the night, dark but backlit by a pale moon I drive fast, but not too fast. Iâm tired. The dayâs work has pushed me over the edge, and all I want …
âSo why are you here?â she asked. Pretty standard opening for a psychologist sitting down with a patient for the first time. She was young, pretty and Shahrokh (an unnecessarily ethnic name) immediately felt comfortable in her presence. âWell, before I launch into whatâs been happening recently I think Iâd better start at the beginning.â …
Mr. Hansenâs body was interred in a stately mausoleum of his own design years ago, and yet he still works for us. Â Iâm forced to interview with the remains of the sad dotard almost daily. The world honors Hansen for his invention of countless beloved animated characters, and itâs that âmagic touchâ of his that …
