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21 August 1902 and 2017
When the moon occluded the sun 42,005 days in the future, Lewis Coughland became self-aware in the Legend of Emma Wick. He had known that this would happen, but it was still a surprise to awaken in the mind of the great love of his afterlife as she stood on the deck of a ferry, clutching her sleeping two-year-old daughter, Mary, to her chest.
Continue reading “A New Book of Numbers (Part II) By Leila Allison”
A spirit was upon the land and within the house and only one person was aware of it. Gunter Garth was connected with that spirit right from the first notice, drew it to him, set it on his soul, knowing the visitation was other-worldly. had its own destiny .. and only Time could play a part in two beings so enjoined.
Thommy Lemolo parks her car in Newtown Cemetery’s small lot shortly before 8:00 A.M. on a Tuesday. It’s a fine July morning, not yet sixty degrees, nary a cloud in the deep azure sky. For two weeks the weather had been uncharacteristically stagnant in the Pacific Northwest; jungle muggy, slick and greasy. But yesterday afternoon a series of wild thunderstorms had blown in from the Puget Sound and gave the region the equivalent of an atmospheric enema. Several lightning strikes had been reported in the vicinity of Torqwamni Hill—especially at Newtown Cemetery. One bolt was said to have hit the ancient oak tree inside the cemetery, yet it hadn’t left as much as a scar. Thommy’s “colleagues” at The Torqwamni Sun didn’t believe it; the pushcart bozos (not one checked up on the claim, mind you) believed that the three independent witnesses had been mistaken. Although Thommy had kept her thoughts on the subject to herself, she is confident that an A-bomb could detonate in the oak and not dislodge as much as an acorn.
Continue reading “A Most Confidential Source by JC Freeman (Leila Allison)”
21 June 1943
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Emma Wick had been beautiful for life. Even at seventy-four she had retained her figure and carried herself with the grace and confidence of someone much younger. For nearly half her time, however, there had been an icy quality about the lady. The few persons who knew her attributed this remoteness to the closely occurring losses of her daughter and husband, many years before. Only Emma knew the truth. She had lost her Mary, who had lived just five years—to a bad case of it having been 1906, more than anything else; but she was the reason why her husband, Robert, lay in his grave since 1907–which was a circumstance that she had never considered anything more than addition through subtraction.
Maki looks angry when he drinks but I know he’s wearing a mask. The mask sprouts from his heart, across his entire face. Sometimes it spreads to his limbs and makes him destroy things. One night he smacked his son when he asked, “why are you crying so loud daddy?”
Continue reading “I Called my Alcoholic Friend Sad Satan by Ashlie Allen”
Ethan and Renfield Stoker-Belle have been married six months. Although the future is always uncertain, one should think that the Stoker-Belles have the ingredients necessary for an eighty-year marriage. Of course the future seems easy, Early On, when both parties are fresh and pretty and full of happy surprises; before the erosive winds of time blow in and expose the true sizes of the “little things.” So far, however, Ethan hasn’t found Renfield’s verbal catchall “Right?” anything less than charming; and Renfield has yet to detect sarcasm in Ethan’s “Aye-aye, you’re the captain” whenever she’s driving. Only 1/160th into the mortal portion of forever and ever, optimism is high with the newlyweds. So high, that they have decided to test the strength of their vows via the insane act of buying a house.
Continue reading “Seekers of the Wow Signal Emoji by Leila Allison”
Old Scott’s Mill had given off odd sounds since the day it closed down. Now it gave off a sense of passage.
