The Coffin-Maker’s Daughter
The door is a rich red wood, heavily carved with improving scenes from the trials of Job. An angel’s head, cast in brass, serves as the knocker and when I let it go to rest back in its groove, the… Continue Reading
The door is a rich red wood, heavily carved with improving scenes from the trials of Job. An angel’s head, cast in brass, serves as the knocker and when I let it go to rest back in its groove, the… Continue Reading
Donald traveled by wheelchair. Not because he was infirm or arthritic or legless, but because he was very fat. He didn’t like to run. He didn’t like to walk. It made him wheeze, and wheezing was uncomfortable. He didn’t like… Continue Reading
P.S. My dearest brother, I left this at the end, something I feel I should finally reveal to you, because I only had you that close to me so you wouldn’t find me insane – anyway, not before you would… Continue Reading
The signs we get from the market say that the hysteria induced by Ion Biceanu’s books will continue throughout this year, too. The publishing houses boast thousands of copies press runs, sold out in days. As the writer died leaving… Continue Reading
It was well past midnight when Linda started on her way home from one of her girlfriend’s houses. She had drank a few while they watched a scary movie, ate popcorn and talked about the boys in their class. She… Continue Reading
The hill, like a fur cap plaited from the tendons of a giant, murmured in protest through the whispered thrill of the wind towards the one who plagued him with the burden of the hollow trees, ever so bent from… Continue Reading
Chester used to be a good boy. Good boy! Good boy, Chester! The pack spoke this. They were glad. Then biscuits– he could sit, he could turn around in a circle, shake with both paws, and because he had great… Continue Reading
Ellis dreamt that night of the forest. He was treading through it in darkness, subtly aware of the conifers and the heather. His feet knew this territory well and he moved quickly, ignoring the sounds of the wildlife: the nightjar,… Continue Reading
An uncontrolled voice: ”The child the child is inside oh God the child they have a child it’s only a few months old God” Over it, Chef was shouting directions: „There. Train it more on the window! Stop aiming at… Continue Reading
“I WANT TO SEE the body,” Fanshawe said. His eyes burned and his sockets were gritty as he blinked, as if the infernal dust that covered everything in this back end of beyond hell hole had somehow also coated the… Continue Reading