I was driving through rural New Jersey when I saw him. A hitchhiker, standing by the side of the road. Surprisingly well-dressed – black suit, slicked-back hair, narrow briefcase. Now, I know I shouldn’t pick up hitchhikers. But I’m 6’ 4”, 230 pounds, with all kinds of hunting equipment in […]
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
The sun began to set over the horizon. The sky had been consumed by a bright orange tint with a touch of pink. That was the countryside for you. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been absolutely fascinated by nature. It was beautiful. From the amazing views of
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
Have you ever seen a photo reCAPTCHA? Instead of a checkbox, it’s a low-quality photo split into 16 square sections. It’ll say something like: “SELECT ALL SQUARES WITH STREET SIGNS,” and you have to click every square that contains a street sign. At 11 PM on Sunday night, I got one while
Back in 2012, I went to Las Vegas for a couple of weeks to blow off some steam, along with my severance package after I was laid off. It wasn’t an absurd amount of money, but it was enough to have fun for a few days which was all I wanted.
I stared at the odd hole that had appeared in my arm overnight. It was located on the inside of my forearm just before the bend of my elbow. I’m positive it wasn’t there when I went to bed last night. How can I be so sure? Easy, because there used to be a mole where the hole is. It’s like the mole collapsed in on itself and became a hole.
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
I noticed it almost immediately. The phenomenon began one day while I was still an undergrad in college. My alarm went off, and I grudgingly let it ring for few seconds before ending it, yanking the covers off my body, and pulling myself out of bed. I had only gotten
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
PART ONE At the edge of our town, there’s a shitty gas station that’s open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If you were to go inside, you’d see row after row of off-brand chips, cookies, potted meats and ramen. Expiration dates suspiciously missing from canned goods like
I’m into BDSM, bondage – shit like that. Some people might find that weird, but I’m sure those people are into things others might find strange, so let’s not judge. I mention this because it’s important to what happened, it gives you an idea of the kind of company I
Gorrup Longstorm hated that smell and he thanked the heavenly bodies that he only had to deal with its attack on his olfactory senses once every ten years. When he was forced to have to live with the odor for the week it took the unsavory brew to simmer, the
“Holy shit…Gary? Is that you, Gary?” Gary quickly spun around to face the voice he’d immediately recognized, although he was far from convinced that it was actually coming from the form of his brother and best friend: Mikey. It seemed fairly obvious that since he was most likely losing his
It was the design of Angelo Ricci and Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms
I was 12 years old when I met my mother. We just moved into a new neighborhood. Autumn leaves began to dribble as my dad started to unpack our things. My brother, who was 4 at the time, was playing with his “Imaginary Friend” who he supposedly just met when