Enjoy a short series of flash fiction snippets from my Winter’s Over collection. (mushroom drawings by me).
There’s dirt, and there’s grime, and then there’s whatever lives beneath the cracked-claw fingernails of Arnold K. Sprouse, the fat man who everyone was sure had been a child at some point, and who forever twitched or itched at the boils beneath his skin. Worse yet, Arnold was the kind of scrounging sort of thing that hadContinue reading “Bait and Twitch”
We’d already been going there for weeks. And we’d learned a few things about that old house, the tall thin one with too many stories it seemed. Like how we all felt safer in one room with all the doors closed, or that it was better to light three candles than one. Or that if meContinue reading “Lita”
No one notices when you slip away, even in the bright orange light of a late autumn afternoon. Instead they sit on their daisy porches unaware of the chill in the air, complaining idly about the Penchant house’s awful lawn. “It’s rats,” says one of them, sipping a sour lemonade. “It’s this drought!” coughs another,Continue reading “Devil’s Fingers”
Lights off we’d crashed hard onto his grandma’s old sectional, still spinning after yet another long night out during that fateful summer, which was dreary and hazy and covered in smoke. And through that indoor fog of comfortable darkness Aleks had mumbled on, somewhat-lucid, about his dreams: how none were the same, but that theyContinue reading “Fire Out”