Horror
The Drones of Ear Drums
His instructor back at Fort Meade had encouraged Colonel Jacob Moss, U.S.A., Retired to compress his memories of things learned. To leave out excruciating details of his new life as his mother laid dying in the master bedroom of his homestead in Missouri. After all, time is relative and so is just the memory of that time. It was like the Yiddish language course he took at night school to get his BA degree (Georgetown University, class of O’ 81, a retro whoopie for him!) and currently for American Sign Language online to enable him to talk to the Poole family. He must not only work neatly but think neatly. For now, he must compartmentalize and compress his knowledge of Yiddish to make room for A.S.L.
By Patrick T. Kilgallon4 years ago in Fiction
Forbidden Fruit
“Never eat the fruit that this tree bears! Not if I tell you, not if a friend dares.” Uncle Will began ominously after adjusting his seat near the fireplace. Willam Rhodenson was the twins, Justice and Juniper’s, favorite uncle. He was a self proclaimed adventurer who sampled every culture and any religion. Although they loved him very much, they were surprised that their parents let him chaperone their makeshift camp sleepover. Uncle Will was believed to be crazy and after he almost drove his car into the nearest lake looking for Atlantis, the twins' father had him committed. Tonight he seemed so different and rid of all those burdens he used to carry. Even though it was a welcome change, Justice thought it was from therapy and Juniper thought it was medication.
By Josaline Radley4 years ago in Fiction
The Coffee Opinion
By Thomas G Robinson When I stepped out of the tent, a supposed five-person tent that I remember getting online at Amazon, yeah, it was right after I got my second shot of the Pfizer vaccine. Not that that matters, because my only worry right now is if all the coffee is gone. I needed to get up and start this day. Still, it was kind of a shock to feel the cold of the forest grounds. Little rocks, sticks, blades of grass and weeds that were poking and tickling my feet were a cold awakening to the early morning sun blinding my vision briefly.
By Thomas G Robinson4 years ago in Fiction
Done and Dusted: The Slender Man Final
The Adventures of Millie and Sandra is a series of urban, paranormal, crime fiction/fantasy stories for girls between 9 and 14. At the bottom of this story, seventh in the series that will become books, I will provide the links to the previous stories in order, from number one.
By Karen Eastland 4 years ago in Fiction
I Come to the Tree
CONTENT WARNING: murder, blood, implied sexual assault. I come to the tree. I come every day. I look for the one who took me away. He’s not in the sea, the salt in the air, the rustle of leaves, or the breeze in my hair. He makes not a sound, no whistle or cry, no tears of regret or whimpers goodbye. Yet here I will find him, and though I do yearn to make myself scattered, I always return.
By Amanda Fernandes4 years ago in Fiction
The Unsaid Good-Bye. First Place in SFS 8: Pear Tree Challenge. Top Story - August 2021.
Nic sat on the toilet in her great-grandmother’s house, staring at the shower wall mural that had creeped her out as a child, feeling very creeped out. She hated using the bathroom here, because there was nothing to do but sit and look at those creepy, sculpted people with their white, almond-shaped eyes and oversized hands, positioned around the trunk of a vast Yggdrasil of a pear tree, branches spread wide above the length of the tub and oval leaves ending in sharp barbs like wasp stingers drooped in silent menace. If a bathroom could be threatening, her great-grandmother had cornered the market.
By R. E. Dyer4 years ago in Fiction
Pear Man
A shiny new Porsche made its way down a winding gravel road, leaving a trail of dust behind it. It looked entirely out of place as it sped past broken fences, dilapidated buildings, and rusty old vehicles. The car, not meant for anything other than smooth pavement, slid on the rocks as it drifted through the turns, just on the verge of being out of control. It came to a sudden, skidding halt as it reached its destination. In front of the car was a large, gray house, which had likely been incredibly beautiful at one time. That time had passed though, and the house was in a state of disrepair, with missing shingles, a broken window, faded paint, and much of the front porch overgrown by plants.
By Kevin McMechan4 years ago in Fiction
Juggling Flowers
Marigolds lay on the table, as she stared out the window, hopeful for his return. It was raining as her tears fell, she longed for him to wrap his arms around her once more. He had been gone for far too long, and she ached deeply inside for his comfort and love. She knew the moon was full outside, but it was hidden by all the clouds. She could still see the soft glow from it, as she lit a candle and whispered a prayer softly. She snuffed the candle, and moved from the window to her record player, and placed a favorite record on to listen to. It was a warm evening, and she decided to take a cool shower before she laid down in her bed for sleep.
By Amy Chris Keiper aka LC Harrison4 years ago in Fiction
