Stopping by a Bar by Roy Dorman

The garishly colored neon sign announcing “Bailey’s Come Back Inn” and the booming of the bass coming from the band inside could easily be seen and heard from the road.

The gravel parking lot was full, leaving patrons no choice but to park on the patchy snow on the lawn near the building.

Though it had started to snow and he was still miles from a warm bed, Alex Redford turned into the lot and parked up on the lawn.

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Red by Angela Panayotopulos

They say the wolf ate the magician.

They find the man lying on the stone floor, chunks of his flesh unfurled around him like oversized rose petals, torn apart by thorny fangs. Broken bottles litter the shelves of his home, caught in liquid pools of strange colors that hiss and spread like angry tears. Tattered black books pattern the floor, spines up and pages squashed, sprawled open like dead crows.

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