by Jim Stitzel | May 8, 2019 | Stories
He stands on the very edge of the precipice, his bare feet feeling every contour of the rough stone beneath them, his toes out over the edge and curling down as if to grasp the ledge itself. A warm breeze blows at his back, threatening to push him over at the...
by Jim Stitzel | Feb 27, 2019 | Stories
He sat before his workbench, looking at his heart lying on the workspace before him. The steel mechanism that sustained his life lay open like a book, hinge at the back, clasp at the front (currently undone), gears and other clockwork mechanisms turning and clicking...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 11, 2018 | Stories
This entry is part 14 of 14 in the series The DarkThe room, if you can call it that, for it was enormous, easily the largest single chamber I’d seen down here in the dark, was a nightmare landscape of chaos. I had to shake my head and blink my eyes several times...
by Jim Stitzel | Aug 6, 2018 | Stories
This entry is part 13 of 14 in the series The DarkI ran through the tunnels, following the sounds of your laughter as they bounced off the walls around me. The shape of the tunnels played tricks on my ears — every time I thought I was close to catching you, I...
by Jim Stitzel | Jul 5, 2018 | Stories
An adolescent boy, nude but for a spotlessly white loincloth. Great feathered wings sprout from his shoulder blades, so perfectly clean and glorious that anyone who saw them would be instantly blinded. But of course there are none who can. He stands in the middle of...
by Jim Stitzel | Jun 22, 2018 | Stories
Klaxons. Klaxons everywhere. Truly this was it. It was the dead of night, of course. They never attacked during the day. That was too obvious, and we’d see them coming a mile away — on a cloudless day. (And even on overcast days, they always mysteriously...
