See that woman? That being of pure knowledge, Standing, swaying with her bottle as her weapon. She will be the darkness in your life and The one constant in your life There is no light without it, nor without her A war will be just like a drug addiction – She intones this like a... Continue Reading →

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Ring

A treat from Carolyn Graham

Words From The Underground

Old-phone

“Hello? Who is this?”
No one answered, just static on the line.  She’d been in the kitchen when she heard the ring.  No one ever called this late at night and she was leery about picking up the phone but she did it anyway.   She heard herself asking the question again and getting nothing so she hung up the receiver.  She normally wasn’t up this late but hadn’t been able to sleep well after coming back from the funeral so she thought maybe a snack would help.  She went back to the kitchen to finish her prep when it happened again.
**ring ring**
It sounded so much louder this time she almost dropped the plate in her hand.  She decided against answering this time but for some reason her voicemail didn’t pick up.  It just rang and rang for several minutes until she couldn’t take it anymore and picked…

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Making Merry is an excerpt from The Logical Circus of the Second-Hand Reapers, coming to eBook and paperback fall 2019 Making Merry The scent of roasting meat permeates the haze she is lost in and it makes her mouth water. She is nearly sure that this is a dream, as it must be; Therrien left... Continue Reading →

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that it ends well Last night I dreamt that I was at my funeral"Not again!" shouted Scarlett Yes, again, and she groaned Last night I dreamt that I was a fish againIn a sparkling and cool riverI reflected on the past. Dear reader, I wish that I... Continue Reading →

You left me here, alone, after promising that I wouldn't have to deal with that for a good long time AND …AND you had the last gawdam word.You promised me that the last word would always be mine.You left me here with no answers.No one to give me lame-ass excuses or clarify what I feel... Continue Reading →

As time crept closer, those fluttery wings in her belly grow more frantic; sort of like bats in the belfry but lower. Her nerves jangle along with her bones, and she wonders, on nights like this, how a person can survive it. How can a human soul continue to exist under such conditions? The clock... Continue Reading →

Since when does belief in a god make you one over everyone who doesn’t believe as you do? This shit grinds my gears.  Who the hell gave anyone the right to judge me or anyone else over choices when you can be damned sure that the one preaching at you for having tattoos or piercings... Continue Reading →

When I was a kid I believed that Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year and that Santa could fix anything because he was magic then as I got older Santa was replaced with God but it came to the same thing eventually the magic wears off when you realize that no amount... Continue Reading →

My Mama named me James Andrew Moon but she called me her Jimmy Angel. My real Mama, not the one who pretends to be. I remember my real Mama. I am 7 years old and today is my birthday. The Mama I have now is mean and not at all like my real one. My... Continue Reading →

Most people complain about Mondays, and rightfully so, but for Yzabel, it was Wrenched Wednesday. Wouldn’t you know I, she thought, today is no damn different. The one day she didn’t want to be late to an appointment, and there is an out of order sign on the mirrored doors. “Jesus, I hate elevators,” she... Continue Reading →

it's 12:47 am and I am still awakelaying here eating a Nanaimo barthat I really don't want and sippinga decaf tea that is horrifying in itself,looking at the tequila bottle andwishing I had the will to drink it allwith a plastic straw *intentional shit stirring*tequila won't work and I know this like I know that... Continue Reading →

Sure, the configuration is pretty enough but it’s only the mask that I was born with. I don’t know what you see, only what I do and yes, I am aware that it’s not ugly but it is a burden to bear because no one understands that its just the clothes that I am forced... Continue Reading →

You promised me That you would take care of yourself. That you would be healthy and to do it for us, do it for you, So that we would have a future together. I believed you when you said that you weren't drinking. Naive? Probably. But – No one that drunk could carry on a... Continue Reading →

You told me you didn't want your words, What you said during that awful, cruel and Heartbreaking time to matter. To count against you and they didn’tI didn't forget them, however. I never did hold all those nasty things That you said to me against you. Even when you compared me to a wife That... Continue Reading →

Supporting the Scene – Writers Community

Such high praise from a mightily talented colleague. Thank you so much, my dear friend ❤

CultMetalFlix

Supporting the Indy Scene

MelMcCurdie

A Spotlight on Author Mel McCurdie

I know not when I started to converse with Mel, its been more than a few years now, though I do know that over time our relationship drastically changed the way I went about composing, what I refer to as my stabs at, short fiction. I’ve contributed to a few sites throughout the years. I have a number of tales and assorted reviews appear on HorrorWriters.com and I even co-hosted a site (ThyDemonsbeScribblin) for a few years where I feverishly contributed as if the world itself would fall from its precarious axis Sadly, activities behind the site led to its eventual decline but this wasn’t before I had been given the chance to get acquainted with Mel. She has always been there to lend an ear, an eye occasionally her words of wisdom and she probably praises my prose more…

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Dressed in my best casual “I barely care wear,” I, the perpetual wallflower, do what I do best I decorate the bleachers with all the other grapes dying on the vine. Some are small, grown sour and bitter, while others are soft and complacent, nearly dead but clinging to hope. Still others, the rare ones... Continue Reading →

I know that you loved me and that you did to the last breath in your body. I know it like I know that if I throw myself from A 13th floor balcony that what you loved would beNothing more than a splatter stain on the pavement. That's how I can live with the fact... Continue Reading →

It’s dead. There’s no coming back from that, barring some apocalyptic event. Dead is dead. The thing that makes you, You, vanishes, like smoke. You are here. Then you are not. Those of us left behind struggle to understand this concept. We can’t understand how we can see you, touch you one moment and the... Continue Reading →

You left me.Even before I got on the plane, I know now it was the booze.Your ever-present mistress. Maybe I was the mistress, andyou were cheating with meon your true love, Alcohol. Oh, I know,She's inviting andwarm and always there She takes away all the pain,but she is a whore. You must pay before you... Continue Reading →

I stopped wearing your ring It seems redundant, to me, Today, as I sit here alone before your ashes Instead off wrapped in your arms To wear them like the celebration  That our love once was When you are gone  ©MelanieMcCurdie2019

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