Three riders cross an empty field, staying in the open, far from any possible Stemmers lurking in the shadows under trees. They stop near a cell tower at the top of a hill. Kate produces a sawed-off shotgun from her saddlebag; something has gone horribly wrong. (more…)

This is my 3rd day in the bathroom. It is also my last. I hold no delusions that anyone will ever read this, or that it has some vital scientific knowledge that must be preserved, I mostly just want to make myself believe that I might have left something to the world. If you are reading these hand towels you took from a chubby, balding zombie then just please remember the name Matthew Nicolas Edgewood, and if you ever see a Bailey Lynn McDonald tell her that I loved her more than anything. This is a brief rundown of my current situation and the last three days. Please forgive the grammar, spelling, and horribly dark sense of humor. I wish I had something really important sounding to say, but I keep coming back to “If I had known hell was a bathroom, I would have brought more reading material.” (more…)

Translation of “Lilies for Donald” by Nina Khmielnitzky, trad. a. / C. Tr.
Traductrice agréée, anglais-français
Certified translator, English-French

1

La soupe au poulet bouillonnait doucement pendant que je chargeais mon revolver .45, assise à la table de la cuisine. Le soleil se couchait maintenant plus tard, et le vent laissait présager un printemps chaud cette année. Je vérifiai les fenêtres avant de fermer les volets à l’aide de barres en fonte. (more…)

She didn’t know how long she had been there in the dark, but she knew it was long enough that her full bladder would no longer hold again. Whimpering, she crawled on her hands and knees, feeling out in front of her, until she found another corner of the basement to pee, and then pulled her panties back up and found her way back to her own little corner the same way..crouching and feeling her way. She could hear the other girl whimpering in yet another corner, and remembered how wild her eyes had looked when she was thrown, tumbling, down the stairs. (more…)

Tanner awoke with a start. Light was streaming through his open window and he thought the neighbor’s garbage can was rolling down the driveway and into the street.

“No, God please no,” a man’s voice screamed. “Please somebody help me!” (more…)

A bicycle stands against the wall of the antique store, whose windows have long been dark, the soap-written deals yellowed with long decay. The hand holding a digital voice recorder trembles despite the warmth of the day. The smell of blood fills the air, the crimson brightness splashed against the dull surface of the sidewalk in Rorschach blots. A thumb hovers above the play button, finally engaging the playback. (more…)