There’s an old legend about ghosts—it says if you want to keep restless spirits from haunting the living, you bury the body at a crossroads, face down. Whether this confuses the ghosts, leaving them wondering which way to go for eternity, or whether the constant traffic is meant to keep them from crawling out of the ground, is anybody’s guess, but one thing’s for damn sure: I need all the help I can get, and if superstition saves the day, hell with it.
[Read more…] about At the CrossroadsNumber Seventy-Two
By Mark Towse
As I reach for the towel, the phone’s loud and unwelcome tone rings from somewhere in the house—thankfully, it’s only allowed to ring twice. But suddenly, I am distracted by a different noise: sobbing coming from next door’s garden. It’s Tom.
Our elevated single storey block provides exceptional views of the bay, but it also means we are privy to the neighbour’s goings-on. The bathroom window looks directly into their backyard, and it’s like a portal into a reality show, but without the pretence for the cameras—a suburban opera of laughter, screaming, shouting, and crying. Nobody stays, and when the final curtain falls and the house goes back on the market, Liz and I are never surprised. There have been bad times, but this has been our home for thirty years now. We have raised two children in this house.
[Read more…] about Number Seventy-TwoThe Ficus Must Die
By Lex T. Lindsay
The office Ficus took its first victim on a Monday. It was Todd from accounting, the kind of guy who oozed used-car-salesman energy and told jokes in the break room that had everyone feigning urgent meetings. This, combined with the fact that everyone was in dire need of a caffeine drip, was perhaps why no one cared much when the tiny tree in the corner somehow swallowed Todd whole, leaving behind nothing but a scuffed black loafer.
[Read more…] about The Ficus Must DieChelsea the Bear
By Chris Milam
The man trying to change his life pumped his fist like a madman at the plasma center. It wasn’t a job, which he lacked because he was fired numerous times due to his alcoholism, but it paid seventy-five dollars a week for two donations, better than nothing.
[Read more…] about Chelsea the BearDream Rifle
I had a dream that I used an assault rifle to destroy the CCTV cameras installed on the side of a courthouse. I crouched on a nearby rooftop and loaded the rifle one bullet at a time, pulling the charging handle back as I slid each round into the chamber by hand. I aimed, fired, and popped the cameras like balloons full of sparks. I laughed as I heard the sirens grow louder and louder in my own mind. It didn’t take long for the police to close in on my location, so I loaded another round, put the rifle under my chin, and pulled the trigger.
[Read more…] about Dream RifleThe Nurse and the Old Man
By Paul Lamar
When Walter wheeled his father down to the nursing home’s shower room, much against the old man’s wishes, he noticed a young female nurse outside the door, not Eric from the previous week. Juanita, she said. Tall, muscular, certainly capable of shifting a 95-year-old shadow of his former self onto a shower seat and giving him a good scrubbing.
[Read more…] about The Nurse and the Old Man