Death is inevitable. We don’t know when it will happen, simply that someday it will come for us all. Well, most people don’t know when, but I do. This is going to sound weird, but I can taste death. So, what do I mean by that? Well it’s quite simple […]
Publisher’s Note: This story is part of the author’s Father Cooke series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. “1…2…3…4…5…6…7.” I flicked the light in the bathroom off and then on again seven times, counting every
Father Cooke: Part 5 – Burning Down the House Read More »
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 »
Turn back now, before your past is dug up like old bones and your soul is consumed in fire. I blinked once, watching the faded trees, like twisted, gnarled fingers reaching up to caress the sky, roll by the carriage window. I rubbed my forehead; the thought must have come
