When you pick your brother up from the rehab center, he will not look like he did when you saw him last at your cousin’s birthday party, when you didn’t know he had white powder in his zipped-up cargo short… Continue Reading
Two dark-haired girls with makeup to match, and look, they’ve found something. An oeil-de-boeuf at the gable admitted a circle of afternoon light that fell on nothing and illuminated even less, catching only the turn of dust motes. Mary pressed… Continue Reading
The slamming fist is punctuated with a sharp, “No.” It might’ve been more impressive if the fistwielder hadn’t been a wisp of a woman, pale and reedy in stature. Her adversary chuckles, settling into the wide chair, hands clasping across… Continue Reading
Dad insisted on two things when we were growing up: fireworks at the lake for Fourth of July and the slog to Punxsutawney to see good ol’ Phil every February second. Maybe Brendan and I shouldn’t have rolled our eyes… Continue Reading
In 1974, when I was six and my brother, Alex, ten, we lived in a house on the edge of town; the land behind us belonging to a state park, which ran along the Sageeyah River for about a mile… Continue Reading
Kyle crept down the staircase into the cellar. One step. Two steps. Three steps. He lowered his bare foot to the fourth step and held it there for a moment, glancing down at the wooden stair and his bare toes.… Continue Reading
On the longest day of the year, three sirens with murder on their minds basked atop the immense, lichen-covered stone looming over their Greek island’s shore. Far below their perch, a dozen fishing boats bobbed atop the Aegean waves. Breathing… Continue Reading
When I arrive, the gray-haired woman is pacing the lobby, hands folded behind her. Long, frizzy waves trail the length of her spine. I stand at the plexiglass window by the entrance, where I’m checking myself in, and I try… Continue Reading
My body is decomposing. It starts to peel away like an onion losing its skin, only to reveal a shriveled core beneath. I must not let him witness this transformation. Since I assumed the role of Madame Wang, I have… Continue Reading
Pat Carlisle knew for a long time that her sister Rose Marie was a clairvoyant fake, a marketing genius, and a master of manipulation. The Psychic Rose found quick success by utilizing a classy website with a chat button. For… Continue Reading