by Jim Stitzel | Aug 1, 2024 | Stories
It started out as a scratch. A cat scratch, at that. The crazy kitty lanced a slash across my forearm that was deep enough to bleed. I washed it with soap and water and thought that was the end of it. Then I woke up in the night to the scratch burning and itching like...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 31, 2024 | Stories
This entry is part 16 of 18 in the series The DarkI walked narrow, dusky corridors alone. I no longer heard your laugh, but somehow I knew you were okay. You were built for these passageways, in a way I never was. I knew I’d find you eventually, though. It was just a...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 30, 2024 | Stories
Expelled. That was the only word Jace could think of as he heaved the large, blackish-brown mass out of his stomach and onto the ground. It smelled like toxic waste and looked even worse. And just seconds before, that thing had been inside of him. He suppressed a...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 28, 2024 | Stories
The boats on the river. Each is adorned with a unique array of finery, showing off the arts and skills of the designers that decorated it. One boat is a forest scene, complete with lifelike woodland animals. Another is a field, with crops growing in rows. Still...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 27, 2024 | Stories
Beware the cornfields. Sinister spirits flock there at night, barely luminous among the stalks and leaves. They have faces of women, eyes bleeding pungent tears, teeth like knives. Their bodies are phantoms, tapering off until there is nothing there. They look out at...
