The waiter nodded and backed away respectfully. Nordique poured herself the last of the wine they had selected. “An exceptional vintage, Ar.” Nordique swirled the wine. “Pressed from the first generation of white grapes grown on Venus. Sure you want… Continue Reading
It was a warm Halloween that year and the candy bags were mostly empty as the twins and their sister tromped into the house. Something was up if they hadn’t packed them full of sugary goodness. “I thought you were… Continue Reading
As Amanda skimmed over the rooftops and trees, she cursed for the umpteenth time that she must do so on a broomstick. She could fly equally well without sitting on a damn piece of wood. But no, public perception said… Continue Reading
By the time Jack was driving home from work, costumed children were already crowding the sidewalks. I’ll go to the jeweler’s tomorrow, he promised himself. He patted the deep side pocket of his work jeans and felt his grandmother’s wedding… Continue Reading
Ding-Dong! Ugh, I think to myself while walking, head cocked, to the front door. I lean back for one last glimpse of the television before reaching forward and turning the knob. “Trick or treat,” the children holler before the door… Continue Reading
“You’re sure you can get me in to see the band?” Lila Dawkins asks, biting her bottom lip. Four young men with swooped hairstyles and smoldering gazes are plastered across her jacket sleeves, a white tee-shirt with the word costume… Continue Reading
The kids were running up and down the street like crackheads jacked up after their latest fix. It was that worst night of the year, the one before All Saints Day. For the past three years, two little shits had… Continue Reading
I paint a line of blood down his face. “Thanks, Kate,” Ricky says. “How do I look?” “Like you’re too old to go trick or treating.” I suggest we begin at the Bennetts’, notorious for king-sized candy bars. “But everyone… Continue Reading
Dressed in a black cape, his hair slicked back and with plastic fangs making it difficult to speak clearly, Royston Welby suggested visiting the old Mattock residence on the edge of town. “No way!” said a young boy, part of… Continue Reading
Oct 31st, 7pm I met up with Zara outside The Slug and Lettuce. Purple hair this year, but still that effortless rank look, wild and matted. Nice ragged slash along her throat, exposing the carotid and lots of gore splattered around… Continue Reading