by Jim Stitzel | Sep 27, 2024 | Stories
The wind howls outside my bedroom window. A tree branch, swaying in the wind, raps against the glass, tck tcking in an irregular rhythm. There are voices in that tempest, voices that I can just barely make out. They speak to me of times long past, of errors made and...
by Jim Stitzel | Mar 2, 2010 | Stories
The black cauldron sat in the middle of the room and hissed menacingly as the green sludge within burbled and glurped. The stench emanating from the vile brew was overwhelming, nauseating in its potency, but the witch standing over it seemed not to notice. “Leg of...
