He wakes up the next day, surprised to discover that his missing thumb is back. The doctor, who had advised Ted yesterday that she couldn’t fix the smashed digit, is even more perplexed. She’d amputated the limb just 24 hours… Continue Reading
I was six years old the first time I saw a man disappear. My parents were arguing in the kitchen that morning. I pretended not to hear it. A little later my father came into my room wearing a suit.… Continue Reading
“Quinn, guess what we found?” my mom said. She closed the fridge to look at me. I shrugged. I was home for the summer and I didn’t land an internship, which meant ice cream, lunches with old friends, and lying… Continue Reading
She was already dead, the doctors told us. Had been dead for quite some time. There was nothing to do about it now, nothing to do but what had to be done. It wasn’t sinful, they said. We were just… Continue Reading
I’ve never been afraid of the monster under my bed. I can’t recall ever asking my parents to leave the door ajar and I never wanted a night light. I found comfort in the silence, even when all I could… Continue Reading
Her husband knew about the closet stacked with art supplies. The paints, pencils, pastels, dozens of brushes of varying quality. Chalk, charcoal, and graphite. After Emma turned three, she dedicated a corner to craft supplies, glitter, stickers, markers and crayons.… Continue Reading
In the beginning, there were only seven of her. Perfect reproductions, each and every one, from the proud, particular curve of her nose right down to the swollen knuckle on her left thumb (the result of a childhood break). The… Continue Reading
The day my brother, Murdoch, stopped talking he looked down a well and saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. The well was on Old Man Mitchell’s property south of town where junk covered the front lawns. Murdoch heard about… Continue Reading
Breath by breath, step by step, he wills his body toward the darkening skyline. Tired legs, weak legs, legs wet from trudging through the snow come to a gradual rest. Pine trees flitter in the wind, a biting wind that… Continue Reading
The brownies kicked in as he settled his canoe on the water. It was a cool morning, breaking off from a string of muggy September days, and a mist hung over the glassy river. He checked his watch: 5:13am, thirty… Continue Reading