Jim Stitzel

Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of Words

Excerpts from Life

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Fiction

Blood Rite

The albino stood on the platform and dragged the knife down his forearm. Blood ran in scarlet rivulets over his hand, his fingers. It dripped the sidereal pattern of his god onto the wooden planks around his feet. Before him the air shimmered as it struggled to call...

Clanks at Midnight

The place smelled like shit and piss. “I thought these things didn’t have bodily excretions,” I called out to my partner. “They’re not supposed to,” she replied. “For some reason this one does. Someone’s been hard at work making a clank that can process food the way...

Meat-Eater

In hindsight, Trista realized she probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep under that tree. - Pus dripped into Trista’s eyes from the multiple infected sores on her scalp. She wanted to wipe it away, but the tree held her fast, pinning her arms to her sides, arms she...