dybbuk box

Maybe I do think Hell is full and maybe, just maybe, I know for a fact that devils roam among us. Maybe I found one. Maybe I know one; and maybe he laughs like sin is a flight of fancy while he watches from his solicitous shadows. Enticing, that daemon, he ignites a barely controlled … Continue reading dybbuk box

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The Sane Sanctuary

Thirty-two: there are thirty-two and they hang on the wall. What you ask?  My collection of grisly souvenirs, the last one is barely a month old and frankly, it’s starting to show little signs of decay  and putrefaction.  No matter what I use, I can never stop that first biological rebellion that would keep them … Continue reading The Sane Sanctuary

they said watch the horizon

up and down … up and down … up the swells make my head explode my heart aches in sympathy for my stomach and my ears look for the horizon there is no shore out there only water, and the - burning alive, want water but there is none to be had surrounded by it … Continue reading they said watch the horizon

Misery loves Company – A Love Story

I first saw her reflection in the shop window of that absurd little doll store. The one on 5th and Main? Tragically gorgeous in that B Movie kind of way, I couldn’t take my eyes from her curves and edges. The porcelain perfection of her complexion and those lips. full and pouty - red in … Continue reading Misery loves Company – A Love Story

The End of Her Rope

It is the last straw, this, the last time. This time his whore came to our home, dressed, or rather undressed, expecting him to be ready for her. In our bed. Not the first time, but certainly the final time. I’ve paid, and dearly for his indiscretions, physically, emotionally, having to swallow my pride and … Continue reading The End of Her Rope

Inside by David Boutin

This story was written by my 10 year old son David as a surprise for me.  I am indeed, surprised and pleased,  I hope you will be too. Melanie "Sometimes a story gets so crowded you can't tell an original story anymore." Scott Cawthon • Part 1 He turned the key in the lock and … Continue reading Inside by David Boutin

The Swollen Man

The voice in my head is incessantly whining at me;  Don't start.  Stop Crying.  Big girls don't cry.  You're stronger than this. Gods, shut up already.  I'm not stronger than this, not remotely.  Perhaps once upon a time,  when I could breathe and move without scrutiny and suspicion, and without resignation, maybe then,  I was stronger.  Now, … Continue reading The Swollen Man

A Dark Thought

I don't know why I'm even trying. I swore so long ago that I wouldn't speak to You ever again and I haven't,  until now. The Absent  Moral Authority, You abandoned me so many times, when I was taught that You were there to protect me, watch over me. Saviour. The first time I needed someone, after … Continue reading A Dark Thought

The Eyeless Prophet

I swear this is mostly a true story.   I'm in the kitchen and there's a man in the lawn. The same eyeless prophet outside my window that I always see.  He shimmers, shivering, just standing there watching me with a mindless smile. Tonight, every night, and he's everywhere, I swear it, in every place I … Continue reading The Eyeless Prophet

The Clangers

Truly, I wasn't sure he was real at first. Those wide guileless eyes, so full of truth; oozing sweetness and youthful innocence. Full to the brim with unfulfilled potential that it makes me ill. That alone is suspect. The confused cocked head, much like a disoriented puppy married with a glazed gaze that is meant … Continue reading The Clangers

-anthropophagus airborne –

  *an excerpt from Slaughterhouse Stories,  coming in October 2016* Airports.  A concrete pen full of rules and fragrant with the scent of human animals.  It is certainly not the place Abbegael Clermont wants to be.  She was supposed to be on a tropical beach with a drink in her hand, but her employers disagreed, as … Continue reading -anthropophagus airborne –

Final Memory

The blackness of unconsciousness has monsters in it, slithery horrible things that resemble nothing close to peace. Floating in some breathless place, I wasn't and then I was. Like a light flashing on, or a flipped switch. What is a light?What is a switch? Flip the switch, blind the night. The reality is that my … Continue reading Final Memory

Snapshot – Turner’s Folly

Read  S N A P S H O T August 13, 2015 Outside of Kelford 30 miles NE of Skull Creek It’s all Al Kennedy can think about. Three weeks’ vacation to spend seven days of it driving while Angie slept and the kids fussed and fought endlessly in the back seat. Then she would … Continue reading Snapshot – Turner’s Folly