A Winter March

Finally, someone has lived to tell the tale. He remembers the cave. He remembers the way. He memorized everything. Such a good boy. He was missing his left leg and three fingers on his right hand when we found him. We were besides ourself with joy and fear regardless. The Lads have never returned anyone… Continue reading A Winter March

What’s Your Sign

Raymond had just turned eighty years old and didn’t care, age was just a number. He sat at his computer watching an online interview of the famous author of Romance Fantasy, Leslie Sorenson. She was attractive, even sans makeup. Tall, with penetrating green eyes and long brown hair. Seth the blogger had already covered her… Continue reading What’s Your Sign

Two Old Friends

They were two old friends, and they decided to meet each day in the park. The park was not far from Stanley’s house, where he had lived his whole adult life. When his children were small, they would go down on Sunday afternoons, around the time his wife couldn’t stand them in the house anymore.… Continue reading Two Old Friends

The Rough Draft

There was something familiar about the man sitting alone on the station bench reading a carefully folded newspaper. Nelson Wilcox had the unsettling sense of somehow knowing – and yet never having met – the man. It was not a case of having “seen him somewhere before.” This might appear to be a seemingly immaterial… Continue reading The Rough Draft

The Porcelain Mother

The doll head had no body. That was the first affront. It sat — always sat — on the highest shelf in the hallway alcove, where the sun never reached and the wallpaper peeled. It was there when he was born. He remembers this, though the memory is impossible: the cracked white forehead, the perfect… Continue reading The Porcelain Mother

The Keystone Witch

May 14th I was allowed five minutes of peace after finishing my Southern Rockies report before they sent me to the Northern lakes and forests of Wisconsin for more field work. I arrived earlier this afternoon but can’t remember the name of the Podunk town I’m staying in. Downtown is a single road with crumbling… Continue reading The Keystone Witch