As an undergraduate at Bryn Mawr College, Clementine Hamilton had majored in psychology. For the department research requirement, she had pursued her studies in abnormal psychology, so she was aware there was no formal diagnosis for what she was. There were elements of obsessive-compulsive disorder in that her need for constant stimulation was recurrent and persistent, and the impulsivity aspect of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder characterized past behaviors. If she had been forced to ascribe a name to it, it would have been something like ‘stimulus deprivation disorder,’ and the symptoms that had manifested themselves over the years were readily measurable.
Category: Horror
The Noble Shelley and Her Fat Belly by H.T. Garton
Ade stared at the ceiling and sighed. In a dim corner at the very edge of his field of vision, a spider was spinning its web. He shuddered. Shelley’s cleaning skills meant that too often he had inadvertently thrust his hand into barely visible cobwebs — nasty, sticky nests of what felt like old man’s hair. He hated spiders: the way they ran out of nowhere at speed, changed direction randomly without warning and fell out of unexpected places where they had no business being – bath towels, dressing gowns, slippers.
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Body Art by Daniel LaPonsie
The human body is undoubtedly the greatest work of art in the entire universe. This is my sincere conviction as I silently spring, hop and even moonwalk. Swirling with grace through the city street, I place the human form on nude display while keeping my mind expertly focused, eyes calm and and dispassionate.
After Evening Benediction by Bill Vernon
At nine years of age I met Monsignor Karavich up close when he invited me onto the altar during benediction alongside Michael Dolanski, the heroic high school halfback. Until then, the priest had been an other-worldly figure, an unreal actor on stage, looming above and orating as I knelt silently at a pew, trapped in place by my mother’s piety.
You’ve Got Mail by Diane M Dickson
I didn’t know, I had no idea, if I’d known I would never have opened the inbox.
I was just checking the emails, sorting out the junk, the ads and the spam, click, click, click. That was when I saw it, for the first time, the first message.
Do not delete this.
Eye Witness by Frederick K.Foote
He come in like dat. A black man on a black mare, seventeen hands, with three white socks. No saddle, no blanket, no shoes, bald head, no hat. Dat mare dancing and turning, kicking up the dust in the bright sun light.
I saw dat. Dat is what I saw.
Shadrach A. Williams
Recorded March 3, 1868
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He Stood And Stared By Hugh Cron
The door was unlocked and he was taken into the room.
“We’re right outside if you need us Doc!”
The two guards watched as he sat and then they left.
The Executor by Tobias Haglund
There is – I wouldn’t call it a hole, rather a hollow – in the ground outside my house. When it rains it fills up to form a puddle and when the sun shines it evaporates, back to a hollow. The last few summers the puddle hasn’t dried away. Perhaps the sun shone less or perhaps the branches of the tree just above it grew a little thicker, but the puddle remained throughout the season. I can see the puddle from my bedroom window. The puddle, the tree and the green area around it, the little playground outside a kindergarten and a convenience store.
With a Bang Not a Whimper by Diane M Dickson
With a bang not a whimper, that’s what they said. At the end it’ll be a fierce cataclysmic implosion and all will be gone in seconds.
But it’s wasn’t, it’s not.
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The Devil Went Down To Ayrshire By Hugh Cron – Adult Content
The Devil went down to Ayrshire…He was looking for a soul to steal.
He walked along the River Ayr passed the Auld Kirk and headed towards The Auld Brig. He had a snigger at the dead people and came upon a park bench where a Gentleman Of The Road sat.
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