NEVER TALK TO STRANGERS • by Becky Jeeves
We were told to look both ways when we crossed the street and never talk to strangers. And if a stranger asked you to get in a car with them, you must say no. I listened because I was a… Continue Reading
We were told to look both ways when we crossed the street and never talk to strangers. And if a stranger asked you to get in a car with them, you must say no. I listened because I was a… 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
I saw the sign on my morning walk. It was taped to a lamppost at the end of the block. It read: “Missing Cat. Her name is Princess. Please call. Big reward.” The sign listed a phone number below a… Continue Reading
I found the three men sitting in a London restaurant, gathered around a table, deeply engrossed in studying a map of England’s West Country. I was intrigued, so went over to talk to them. Their names were George, Harris and… Continue Reading
Cass stood at the top of the steps and listened. Her mother and her sister were downstairs in the living room, watching the news. The news story drifted up the stairs like a cold draft. “…miraculous escape from the clutches… Continue Reading
The shadow of the man standing over me disturbs my sleep. A small weight dropping on my chest wakes me. I look at a plastic shopping bag and then at Frank, scratching his hedge of a brown beard at me… Continue Reading
Jay had seen some wild shit working for Dulles Pest Control. But he hadn’t been expecting a light-distorting anomaly that reportedly absorbed a housecat. “I heard you were good at handling the weirder stuff,” the client — Mr. Michaelson, Jay’s… Continue Reading
The painting in the living room gave me a funny feeling. It followed me around the room like those pictures with eyes that never look away. Only this painting had no eyes. It was a swirl of reds and pinks… Continue Reading
What she liked most about Ken Krieg? He didn’t mind she was taller or a volleyball star. Eating Buddhist cuisine in Buffalo, he told her flat as their food, “I want to marry you, work on Wall Street, and live… Continue Reading
Melvin Fernsby buried his hands in his overcoat as he approached the one-room unit at the end of the cramped hallway. The thin carpet tried in vain to swallow noise from neighboring apartments: televisions squawking baseball games, infants crying, people… Continue Reading