Fearful Thinking_Asking for It_How Does It Do It?_Friends After Death
Catalog Guide:
Fearful Thinking
I know what you're thinking.Oh, it's so dumb to be afraid of the sunsets, aren't those supposed to be pretty or something?No. No they're not.Not here anyway.Farstan was watching the sunset with trepidation. I couldn't blame him, we'd been running from them for so long now that I can hardly remember what we're running from. Phantoms. Zombies. Skeletons. In short, the undead. The undead of our population from hundreds of years ago.The human race has barely survived for this long. Parents never take care of children longer than they need to because they slow them down. They never get emotional at...
Asking for It
Trigger warning: depictions of stalking and sexual assaultWhen they found her overturned cart, its contents burst open and seeping across the asphalt, one wheel was still spinning. It squeaked into the air like a wounded animal until a hand reached over and stilled it. The absence of its cry felt like pressure, a riddle pausing for an answer, the connections right there underneath all this confusion. Someone, later no one would remember who, pointed to the small red hatchback just across the lot. The dome light was on, illuminating an empty interior with the driver’s side door swung open. They...
How Does It Do It?
“And even you might be surprised just how tasty they are.” Father closes the storybook and kisses his son, Harry, on the forehead. He lingers on the edge of the bed until his son’s eyelids fall shut. Silence is the loudest sound, the moon is the brightest light, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his son’s chest are the sharpest movements. Harry slips closer and closer to slumber until a soft squeak drifts across the airwaves and tickles his ears. Not the squeak of a door or a window, nor the squeak of new shoes. The squeak of a mouse... Windows shatter. Walls crack. Flwww.onedoor.ccoorboards snap. Wardrobe...
Friends After Death
Standing at his kitchen counter, Mike ran through the checklist one last time. It was important that he got things right. A single mistake could ruin everything. His eyes scanned the contents of the cooler lying open in front of him. Chips and bean dip. Check. Pigs-in-a-blanket and hot wings. Check. Those stupid carrot and celery sticks his wife always insisted on sending with him. Check. Beer. Check. He gazed lovingly at the frosty cold bottles of dark glass. Then he spun around, opened the fridge and pulled out another six pack. Double check. A glance at the clock showed that it was time. H...