I always saw him in my dreams. We met in a thinly wooded forest with a smoldering red sky. Why, I don’t know. But he was always there.
She couldn’t remember a time before the swamp.
The terrible sound rushed upon us, gnawing at our backs as we ran over the plump spring grass.
Last night, I enjoyed a short story by one of my favorite authors: “The Last Question”, by Isaac Asimov. I’ve long admired his work, but when someone told me that he’d written a brilliant short story that deals with the same topic as a story I’m currently working on, I had to check it out.
I started hearing their music pretty soon after the accident, and every night it became sweeter and more damning.
If you’ve been hanging out with me, you know that I just can’t seem to get Alabama out of my system. Remember when I threatened to turn my childhood into a horror story about demon? Well, it’s arrived. At least partially. As a working title, I call it ‘Appalachia’. Put simply, it details an outbreak […]
I helped make a magazine. It’s one of those small, local magazines that you see sitting in piles at a cafe or placed on lending library shelves. We’ve got a team numbering in the single digits. I’m here to sell it to you, but I don’t really feel like playing the salesman. Here’s the deal: […]