House Broken


Read by Dawn vol 1Andrea leaned against the small window above the kitchen sink, wiped away the frost, and peered upward into the darkness outside. The hail rattled against the windows like popcorn kernels in a frying pan, as the gusts of wind seemed destined to blow the house off of its foundation and send it sliding down the ice coated street and into the churning ocean at the base of the hill. A sheet of snow slid down in front of the kitchen window, slamming against the sill. Andrea leapt back, catching herself before letting out a scream.

The phone rang and this time she did scream.

“Jesus!” she cried, grabbing at her chest. She shook her head and grabbed the receiver off the wall.


The phone clicked and crackled to silence.

She hung up and the phone rang again.


“Andrea? Can you…this…” It was her brother’s voice, weak and garbled.

“Drew? Thank God, I can…”

“Shit…I can’t…you. I’m…stuck…Amhers...”

Midnight at the Quick n' Save


City SlabBoots pushed through the door, anxious to leave the hot, sticky mess of the night behind him, and was greeted by a wave of cold air that plastered the sweat-soaked t-shirt to his muscular frame. He headed to the cooler in the back of the store, and reached inside for a Coke. He took a sip as he walked to the counter. The soda was warm, but his dry mouth welcomed it. He swished it around. The bubbles buzzed his tongue. Frida looked up at him and gave him a wink as she waited on a short old man who was fumbling through his pockets. Spare change jingled. Frida looked pissed, her face a frowning olive pancake sprinkled with pepper; lips fire engine red, Vaseline glossy.

The old man fished. Frida grew impatient. Boots stood in close behind him. The old man had that old man smell; sweet cologne, dead skin, dirty laundry. His hair was dyed black, slicked back, parted by river of snowflake dandruff floating in greasy pomade. He cursed and mumbled as he continued to fumble, and Boots leaned in on him hard.

“Get off my back you black bastard,” said the old man.

Boots recoiled, smiling, shocked. Frida wouldn’t have it. She slammed the register closed and pointed to the door.

Death Row


Undead AnthologyPastor sat with his back to the bars and took a long drag off of his cigarette. He didn’t pay much mind to the dead thing on the floor outside his cell. Hell, even the blood on his hands didn’t faze him, although, I suppose nothing much did these days.

It started a week ago. We’d only gotten the story in bits and pieces from panicked guards and workers on their way out of the jail; out of the city. They left us a few cases of canned fruit, bottles of Coke and water, and even set up a television set right outside my cell. They wished us luck, and left.

There were reports about a disease that made people change. The news was flooded with images of riots and mass evacuations.  It was chaos out there.

After a day or so all of the networks had switched to the emergency broadcast signal. The only station still broadcasting anything other than that annoying squawk was a local access Christian channel that ran a continuous loop of hymns over a static image of Christ on the cross.

Seemed a little late for that.

Today was the first time we’d actually seen one.

The Car Wash at the Edge of the World


As he placed the groceries in the trunk, Josh looked down at the bumper of the new BMW and groaned. The black and silver fiberglass was peppered with the dried husks of dead flies, moths, and mosquitoes.

He lowered the trunk and delicately snapped it shut. Alison noticed and smiled.

“It’s a trunk, Josh. It’s made to be slammed”

 “I’m not ready,” He replied.

Alison laughed and slipped in the passenger side as Josh ran his finger down the rear quarter of his car.

It was more than a car.

It was his dream.

And his dream was filthy.

For as far back as he could remember Josh Brenley wanted a BMW 320I. It was a modest goal, but Josh was a modest man. When the company offered him the transfer to Barrow’s Cove, he knew then that he’d have the money to finally purchase his dream.

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