Lined Paper

Jim checked his phone out of habit as he rushed down the hall. Before he could see just how late he was, the screen dimmed. “Buggy piece of dogshit!” he said, shaking the infernal device, suppressing the desire to throw it through the 5th story window. For moment he decided on a compromise, agreeing with his inner demon to toss it in the trash and buy a new one after work, but before he could act, he found the phone tumbling out of his hand as he fell onto the floor. “What the fuck?” he said, twisting around on the…

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Deep Time: Twins Across Two Times, part 2

Back to Deep Time   The waitress approached again. “Just wanted to let you know that my shift is ending, but we’re staying open during the shadow hours, and we have a few specials.” Anders looked up in the sky as she flitted away, and realized the sun had been growing dimmer. “This part of Rondella Duo has a daily eclipse. Lots of people use it to take naps. At least, they did the last time I was here,” Claribel said. “How long ago was that?” “I think our waitress’s great-great-great grandmother was probably still in diapers.” Anders chuckled. “Did…

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The Master Butcher (Halloween special aphorism)

An aphorism is different from a short story or a piece of flash fiction in that it does not seek to set up or resolve any plot. It is like a snapshot of a particular setting, character, or an expression of a feeling. The following horror aphorism is somewhat inspired by (but not derived from) a track called, “The Master Butcher’s Apron” off of Death Metal band Carcass’s last LP, Surgical Steel. Check it out if you have the time. There was a flash from the east. A burning streak split the evergrey sky, lit coldly by a blood-red sun in…

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He Should Have Taken his Gun (Halloween flash fiction special)

The point of flash fiction is to condense a story down into its barest and most essential parts. I have attempted to do this with horror, providing characters and plot points in just over 200 words. Enjoy! Julie’s hand hesitated over the buzzing phone. It was a DC area code… probably that FBI investigator again. That meant it was important, but she didn’t want to answer it. It meant hope was gone. Memories returned. It was like the beginning of a horror movie. They were in bed. Something went bump. Probably the cat again, but she had to be sure.…

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The Chal’cha Napkin (flash fiction)

From The Huffington Post “It looks like a gigantic napkin,” Tommy said. “Like they put in your glass at nice restaurants.” “You ain’t never been to a nice restaurant,” Julie said. She was always saying things like that jokingly, but Tommy never laughed, and she never quit. They walked toward the strange building, seemingly dropped overnight in the middle of the countryside miles away from any convenient skyways. It stood about eighty feet tall at its highest point, and did look a bit like a crumpled cloth from where they stood, with long ripple-like folds spiraling up to a narrow…

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