Short Fiction, Poetry and Classic Book Reviews
The blind man placed the gun on the floor by his feet. "To think," he said, "that Gloucester may yet see the Daystar rise upon England's emerald dales once more. The blush of autumn, the bloom of spring—and to look upon thy face again, Edgar, my son." He smiled and sighed, but then his look... Continue Reading →
"My son," pleaded the blind man, through a scowl. "Edgar, apple of mine eye, dost thou live?" Victor's every muscle tensed as leeches crawled on his neck. There was a crack high above, and part of the uppermost shelf collapsed, tipping its books like dominoes onto one another until the final one teetered on the... Continue Reading →
The blind man removed his hood and blood spurted from his empty eye sockets as though shot from a pump action water gun. Victor dropped his jacket and stumbled back, trying to shield his face. For a solid minute the gory sprinklers drenched the room, only tapering off to a dribble after having turned the... Continue Reading →
It seems communism is much like Samson from the bible—it killed a lot of people and left those it spared with a deep distrust and resentment toward it. My friend Neil is also like Samson, in that he has long hair and lives with his parents. But no one has written a book about Neil... Continue Reading →
Out in the hall Victor squirmed and jumped around as though trying to shake a cluster of spiders from his skin. He wiped his hand on his pants, the wall, the floor, the bottom of his shoe—anything to try and scrape the putrid slime from his fingers where he had touched the doorknob. "Argh! Gross!... Continue Reading →
It may be long, it may be years, Until it's gone, but then the tears, For our brief time, how cheap we sold it, Gave our minds to touchscreen altars, Made our gods of all that shined, We fit the mould, we toed the line, Chased the pretty bursts of smoke, No sense of worth,... Continue Reading →
He looked up at the ceiling and a plump raindrop smacked him in the eye. "Argh," he moaned, rubbing away the offending liquid. "It's raining bloody lemon juice." Victor sat curled beneath his jacket until the rain stopped, and then got to his feet. The library around him was bright again and instantly dry, while... Continue Reading →
The cloaked figure tilted his head upon hearing Victor's voice. "Hark!" declared the figure, in a deep, overly dramatic tone. "What treacherous melody assaileth mine ears? Doth! Be it thou, Edgar?" The figure's elocution was impeccable; his grasp of language was lacking. "Forsooth, cruel fortune. Ye!" "Um... My name is Victor. I'm just, uh, trying... Continue Reading →
He crossed the hall and went back to the bedroom he had inspected earlier, the one with the unbreakable window. He placed the lollipop on the desk, and then fished out his phone, wallet and keys from his pockets, and put them on the desk as well. Victor took off his jacket and threw it... Continue Reading →