“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.” – Sigmund Freud
Dylan yawned, leaned back in his chair. It was another late night at the Nightmare Center, but at least he was collecting overtime. The entire year had been full of late nights, for obvious reasons. The election had peoples’ unconscious selves falling apart at the seams.
“Still here?” Amari asked, bags under her eyes.
“Unfortunately,” Dylan said. “I’m working a double.”
“It never ends.”
I’m not sure what attracted me to Stephanie. Was it her hazel eyes, which changed colors and had a circle of orange around the iris? Or was it how calm I felt around her, like I could be myself and not worry about ridicule?
I lay with her in bed on a Saturday night. She ran her fingers down my chest as we talked, and I could feel goosebumps shoot all over my body.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, breaking the cool and calm silence.
“I’m still thinking about the talk at the university, to be honest. It was interesting. I always wondered what it’d be like to be a cyborg.”
Cindy parked her work truck in the shade by a McDonald’s and took a big bite out of her Quarter Pounder. Her lunch breaks were always interrupted by phone calls — the endless calls from dispatchers. Today was no different.
When her phone rang, she turned down the Brad Paisely song on her radio.
“Hey, sunshine,” said Marcus, the dispatcher. “Feel like catching any more dogs today?”
It wasn’t the call Cindy wanted to get. But at least it wasn’t the call, the one she constantly feared getting.
Here’s a short story that’s my attempt at a horror story, or weird fiction, at least. I’ve been reading about pagan mythology for a novel project lately, which inspired some parts of the story. Enjoy!
Here’s a piece of flash fiction I wrote a couple of years ago that, I suppose, is semi-autobiographical. It’s about loneliness and the yearning for human connection.
Father Curran has committed to this new philosophy of the afterlife. He’s not sure whether he will, in fact, die soon. But his old faith is in tatters – that much is certain. Here’s the conclusion of “There is No Death”:
Father Curran slides deeper into depression, and he’s beginning to lose grip of reality. Is he really going to die soon? Or are the men from the funeral home playing some elaborate joke on him? Here’s Part 5:
In the last installment, Father Curran visits the funeral home and meets another person who apparently knows of his forthcoming death. Curran rejects his claims and he’s told men of faith are usually the ones who have the most trouble with their version of the afterlife. Here’s Part 4:
Yesterday, we met Father Frankenburger, Curran’s fellow priest who annoys him because of his naivete. Curran’s meeting with the strange man gnaws at his mind, feeling like a strange dream. Here’s Part 3:
In yesterday’s installment, Father Curran is approached by a man who looks like an alcoholic Rip Van Winkle. The man tells the priest he works for an unheard-of government agency that helps people transition to the afterlife. Curran thinks the man may be insane – but is he? Here’s Part 2: