While I was still in Amsterdam, I dreamed about my mother for the first time in years.
Mouths open to the sun, they sleep.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
This is the story of a man named Eddie and it starts at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun. It may seem strange to start a story with and ending, but all endings are also beginnings. We just don't k...
It was a pleasure to burn.
Son, Last Sunday the host of a popular news show ask me what it meant to loose my body.
Seated opposite me in the railway carriage, the elderly lady in the fox-fur shawl was recalling some of the murders that she had committed over the years.
At dusk the pour from the sky.
This story began, as all writing must, in failure.
Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber as a word was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely and Shenandoah ha...
On the heights above the river Xzan, at the site of certain ancient ruins, Iucounu the Laughing Magician had built a manse to his private taste: an eccentric structure of steep gables, balconies, sky-...
Did you wish upon a star and take the time to try to make your wish come true?Did you try to paint the sunrise and find the gift of life within?Did you write a song just for the joy of it?Or write a p...
At dusk they pour from the sky.
So, have you split up now?
As he dropped the last grisly fragment of the dismembered and mutilated body into the small vat of nitric acid that was to devour every trace of the horrid evidence which might easily send him to the...
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