The mine shaft erupted in flames.
“Well, you found me,” Satan said pushing a drill out of the way. “Now, which way to the surface?”
A collection of ominous short fiction from my Twitter account (@jojascully).
The mine shaft erupted in flames.
“Well, you found me,” Satan said pushing a drill out of the way. “Now, which way to the surface?”
Seeing is believing. Believing is frightening.
The exhibit at the American Museum of Mirrors and Reflection proved a great success, with a wide variety of visitors.
Necessary for a gruesome recovery.
The day after the last of the undead expired, the inoculated commenced with the preparation of many mass graves.
This piece originally appeared with Workshop (defunct online journal of short fiction).
“There’s a big fruit stand on Calle Boquete in Panama City. Meet me there ten years from today, and I’ll give you back the key to the time machine. I’ve done this before and I know I take that long to win her back!”
“Ten years! How will I know it’s you?”
Space crabs.
Not good (generally speaking).
The aquatic life found on Luyten b was often kept in aquariums within the fledging colony established on the exoplanet.
A collection of ominous short fiction from my Twitter account.
The poison was colorless, but there was a foul aroma.
Mrs. Claus wasn’t pleased.
She had one night of privacy to get this right.
Paradise reanimated.
The last island on the Red Planet slowly became the tip of a narrow peninsula.
Stubbornness kills. Often horrifically.
One rebel was late to surrender.
A collection of short fiction from my Twitter account (@jojascully).
She keeps her favorite possessions in the crawl space above her closet.
That’s likely where you’ll find her ex-husband.
Inspired by my favorite book as a child (“The Little Red Caboose That Ran Away”), this originally appeared with Workshop (defunct online journal of short fiction).
“We just don’t need you,” the railroader said. “We don’t need any cabooses.”