Between the lines and through the lens…
Before the #NaPoWriMo kicks in with its 30 days of 30 new poems, (who is taking part?) here is a little chilling tale of ghostly goings on between the window panes… Between the Panes A short story The wife. I am a wife. I am a mother. There is a brown house with a […]
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another reblog of my short story for the season of the witch and the rising dead… Happy Reading… A Short Horror Story. I don’t remember what happened before, no clue as to who I was, what I was, but afterwards, everything that happened afterwards is a completely different story, because when […]
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He stands in the shadows, staring out the window of his one bedroom suburban house onto the street outside. The late afternoon sunlight skirts the jaded red carpet as if looking for a way out. An old typewriter gathers dust on a desk next to stacks of unwanted, and seemingly unworthy, manuscripts. A breeze […]
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Definition of a House: A structure serving as a dwelling for one or more persons, especially for a family. It should have been an ordinary day, a day like any other in May, a Wednesday, not the beginning or the end of the week, not the struggle of a Monday or the excitement of […]
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It wasn’t front page breaking news or even in the supplement section. It wasn’t the sex scandal that scorched the headlines or bloody enough to have readers beat each other for a copy but it still found its way into black and white, pressed forever, or until the print faded, into a line between births […]
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She was a married woman, with stars in her eyes, by the age of ten. She’d seen him in the back yard at 9 ¾ and in seconds had painted their future together. Mrs. Mulligan’s daughter would be Mrs. Michael Menkas and at 12 she dropped her bike at his gate and, upon his stoop, […]
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And so he waved back, and, as if brushing back the years, he remembered when they cycled through the lanes together, well not together, in their group, but he was there and she was there though, in truth, it was not this particular woman, the woman who had waved to him as the train […]
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