So mean that her death would cause a thousand of Hell's toughest demons to opt for early retirement.
There are angels in Hell, the horror writer told him, not just in Heaven. Indeed, the angels of Hell may be the more numerous.
Then, just now, I went into my bedroom to find something else, and Lovecraft looked down on me. He’s dull metallic grey. His head is elongated, his eyes blank discs. It’s a bust of the author I receiv...
The wood smoke gave the whole place the scent of autumn,
Before. Yes, before, I sailed my little boat on a placid sea of ignorance. Was I blissful? Oh my, yes. Before the truth floated like jetsam towards me, fouling my rudder . . .
Any idea what started it? No obvious point of origin, but Perry Horne will be out later and he can tell us more. Joe unzipped his jacket a little way and palmed sweat from his throat. I don’t need a f...
Wilderness remained a place of evil and spiritual catharsis. Any place in which a person feels stripped, lost, or perplexed, might be called a wilderness.
The root J-N-N has so many derivatives. Jannah, paradise, is the hidden garden. Majnoon is a crazy person whose intellect has been hidden. My favorite, though, is janin. The embryo hidden inside the m...
That’s one of the things that lies in the deeps, never far enough from the surface; the only real difference between the broken ones and everyone else is that the broken ones know there isn’t one.
Her name was Flower, oddly imprecise for one so much herself, as though her parents had wrestled with names like Daisy, Violet, and Rose, lost their way amid so many choices, and settled for this gene...
So the little girl collected feeling like a cistern collects the rain, and when she held too much, she pulled it out and sealed it in beautiful vessels.
We stand revealed as something our parents are mortified to have created.
She and her husband, Gavin J. Grant, live in Northamp ton, Massachusetts, which is only a short drive away from the Eric Carle Museum.
Most of all, he liked her, the maiden named first for a salad. Not only lust and love, then. For liking surely was the most dangerous. Lust might burn out and love grow accustomed. But to like her was...
Her skin was so tan that it reminded Krista of a stain. Coffee on blonde wood.
I’d go with her, like a flash I’d go, if this were anything more than a dream, anything more than an infidel’s sour regret, anything more than eleven thousand words cast like a handful of sand across...
His new stepsister, Darcy, stood in the door that went down to the second floor. Her hair was black and knotted and stringy, and, no surprise, she was wearing one of her dozens of princess dresses. Th...
It’s easier to acquiesce. Everyone does, they tell him.
I also love ‘Mr. Fox’ and the advice that his bride-to-be sees carved above the door to his house: BE BOLD, BE BOLD. She goes inside, of course, and then she sees more advice: BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BUT NO...
I was taught that the villagers and the slum dwellers were like animals, she said. It was the responsibility of people of the educated classes to see to it rules were followed and order maintained. An...
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