Jack began to think the wound was superficial because there was no pain. Sure, there was pain when the knife went in, sharp and cold, but now there was nothing. He was numb. Sleep. That was all that was needed, sleep. Just a little rest and everything would be okay… Jack opened his eyes, blinking
"And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all." "The Masque of the Red Death" is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe originally published in 1842. It tells the story of a group of wealthy nobles attempting to avoid a plague by hiding in an abbey hosted by Prince
We shared our first kiss under the cherry blossom tree. It was perfect, like a scene from the movies. I stared into her eyes and brushed her soft hair from her delicate face. I saw the blood rush to her cheeks and imagined what it would be like to feel her soft skin. Her scent
I sat for a long time at the bar. I tried to chat with Stephen, it was too busy. I wandered to the buffet table then through the main dining room, my eye caught the front door and I made my way toward it. I felt a tug at my sleeve as a slid past
Welcome everyone to this thing that I do… On this episode I’ll be telling a story of loss and sadness. One of melancholy nostalgia with just a twinge of regret - in other words the standard, normal stuff that I write. The story I read this time is one from a series called The Impermanence of Objects.
There was little left of our party when the fire went out and shadows became only darkness. When the whispers got loud and the laughter faded. The music we played became a drone, an echo bouncing through the oak, the maple and pine; till all was silence. Just quiet. And quiet leads to madness. And
There was a man named Michael. He would sit at his desk every day in front of a computer screen and type out reports and numbers and other things the people he worked for thought were very important. His desk was by a window that looked down two stories to the street below. Sometimes Michael
I remember walking down a country road in springtime. It was after sunrise and I had wandered away while the others slept. A wooden fence lined each side of the road; in the fields beyond I knew there would one day be corn but there was only the sewn earth ready to grow. The fence
The man in blue comes by everyday. He walks in the front yard, steps through the flowerbed. He leaves me things by the front door, but I just throw them away without looking. He thinks he can scare me, intimidate me. Well, he can’t fool me. I know better. So tomorrow I will set a
Patrick Corrigan decided to throw a party while hanging upside-down on the schoolyard swings. Ideas often came to him this way. He felt he thought better with the blood rushing to his head. Patrick told this to Christine Donatello who sat on the swing beside him, immediately she flung herself backwards to join him. Two
