He scoops out a little bit of my brain, and tastes it.
He scoops out a little bit of my brain, and tastes it.
The rules were — or what happened was — that the ball was tossed up above the group of us boys and whoever grabbed it first ran like hell away from everyone else who chased […]
This house doesn’t have roaches like our old house; But it’s a lot to deal with when he’s screaming At me (today) in a sealed up, hot garage that smells Like stale beer and left-over […]
Not a word about the man in the crushed-purple-velvet suit, cheetah-print-rimmed fedora—pointing the way towards the post-game-show—with his zirconia topped cane.
And yet upon graduating college you insist on leaving that lumpy brown heap on the sidewalk, a little going away gift to your neighbors who never once flattened your tires as payback for the red […]
Mrs. Barrett kept her husband’s body in the garage refrigerator, but she didn’t kill him. His heart combusted in his rib cage during Sunday breakfast, popping his eyes out like egg whites. Wiping sugar-free orange […]
*** Lucas Peel spends his time telling everyone who will listen about his ongoing battle with lactose intolerance. He was born in the year of the banana and likes thinking about the sounds dinosaurs […]
I can assure you that there is absolutely no evidence, scientific or otherwise, to support your theory that werewolves run wild within our Park boundaries
Because something unravels in front of you, no stops for your blue light-radiated eyes…