The Valley of Spiders by H.G. Wells
Towards mid-day the three pursuers came abruptly round a bend in the torrent bed upon the sight of a very
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Author: Every Writer
Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.
The Birds Weep by Steve Carr
The air is thick with the scent of pine. Rays of purple, blood red and golden yellow are fanned out across the twilight sky. Kyle walks among the trees holding a bouquet of wilting lilies. Lost, he searches for signs of the path he wandered away from.
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Trick or Treat by Niles Reddick
Halloween isn’t all fun and games. Sometimes it’s a memory you might want to forget.
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Goats and Windbreakers
Lorie L. LaPrelle’s story of being a child and learning a new found fear. The story is one of misunderstanding and childhood terror.
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Delivery by Denis Bell
“It came out positive.”
“You’re kidding!”
It would seem so. The news was surprising to Ruth because Sandra was old. Not Betty White old, but easily old enough to be Ruth’s mom.
“What did Jim say?”
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Thief by Kristy Gherlone
I watch them together, though I’m supposed to be in my room. They’re sitting too close. Cigarette smoke trails in front of my eyes as I sit huddled in the corner.
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Nobody Shall Sleep By T. Dem
I’m lying down on the bed. Naked. Carefree. One hand thrown carelessly behind my head propping me up. The other playing with my belly button or any small indent on my skin within a comfortable radius.
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Looking for the Unseen/Seen by Anshika Arora
On a sunny winter morning, I heard the honking of my school bus; dressed up in my new uniform I hastened to get to my first day in the assembly. Standing in the last queue I noticed a woman in a white cloak
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Retreat by Jack Coey
She ran away from home, and Pastor Bruce was dismayed after talking with her mother. Her mother said she’d been sullen for the last month or so, and even the school nurse called once.
Continue readingGhost Witch by Patrick K. Hoople
Native Americans refer to her as Skuda-ku-mooch or Ghost Witch. Tales that my, great grandmother would tell, entertaining my sister, Adelynn, and I late on autumn nights.
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