Written by Russell James Being free felt wonderful. And the death certificate in his hands represented Jared’s freedom. He’d demanded a certified copy be delivered as soon as one was ready. His hands trembled with joy as his eyes traced each letter of the name of his dead wife, Denise. By week’s end, the boat… Continue reading Ashes and Paint
A naked corpse lay in the dim dressing room’s corner…
A howl rolled across the mutable landscape of the Dream. It was answered by another, then another. Those of the wild were on the hunt tonight. Cossus
pricked up his ears, listening, but he did not join in. Unlike them, he had a duty.
…They are solitary hunters, but they meet on occasion. Sometimes by chance, sometimes by challenge. There is no such thing as a friendly encounter as we understand it…
“Grandpa Jeff! Grandpa Jeff! I wanna ride the alien!” Bernice tugs at the hem of his cream and teal shirt, and jabs her free hand towards the rundown pavilion — all patchwork tarpaulinand wrinkly tin — that plays host to an ancient mechanical bull.
“What I mean to say is, they look… unusual. Can you just confirm that this,” he held up the dripping, medium-rareburger, “really came from them? Well, that it used to?”
…The dead guy was getting frustrated at his inability to order a coffee. The coffee cups on the rack above the coffee machine began to rattle like a train was passing by. The bell over the door rang irregularly. I could see the top of a mop of curly brown hair moving behind the coffee machine, and hear the gurgling of the milk steamer…
“What kind of idiot flushes a ghost down the toilet?” Mack growled, snapping the lid shut on the spook jar. I figured that was a rhetorical question, and continued to take pictures of the seething pool of ectoplasm and sewage below me, while breathing through my mouth…
Written by L. P. Melling The last time I saw Jude before he disappeared, we were in the school toilets after IT class, two weeks before our high school finals. That was when he showed it to me. “Hey, Danny, what are those red dots called people get on their skin?” Jude asked me. “You… Continue reading Signs of Gods
Recycled O negative blooms across the fibre optic carpet, gushing from his slit writs…
