by Jim Stitzel | Sep 1, 2015 | Stories
“Ain’t natural, Karl.” “‘Course not.” “Fog’s ‘sposed to burn up in sunlight, not pile up against the edge of a man’s property like it’s beatin’ on a wall.” “Ever’body knows that,...
by Jim Stitzel | Dec 20, 2010 | Stories
He vomits, on all fours and stomach heaving. Long, ropey strings of fluid slide from his mouth to the ground, wet and glistening. It is the color of infected phlegm, the smell powerful, overwhelming. His belly clenches again, and he vomits more of the greasy strands...
