As icicles ripped through fiberglass and rubber, he remained surprisingly content.
“Death on Ceres”
Even a frosty resolve can’t save this rescue mission.
Even a frosty resolve can’t save this rescue mission.
As icicles ripped through fiberglass and rubber, he remained surprisingly content.
An ancient terror longs for the good old days.
I miss the train.
I loved the anonymity of the train.
The trouble with unemployed clowns is that some scurry through your backyard at night.
Or worse.
I really miss Seven By Twenty. The surprisingly lengthy archive of this former publisher of very short fiction is on Twitter (@7×20).
Do share.
“Everyone talks poorly of that witch.”
“And for good reason.”
Just one pair is enough for me.
I pulled the covers over my head.
A summertime nightmare.
His father scowled.
“So, you’re telling me that the lawnmower is haunted?”
Not necessarily an ideal situation.
The evening downpour flooded the basement.
A collection of very short fiction from my Twitter (@jojascully).
“Then what?” he asked.
“We wait,” she responded.
“What if the creature doesn’t come out?”
“We go under the bed after it.”
A collection of monstrous short fiction from my Twitter (@jojascully).
An ominous cloud drifting over the mountains became two.
Four billowy masses listed over the range before many noticed.
A few folks in the valley went missing.
Nothing serious.
That man ranting about the “atmospheric beasts from Jupiter” – he’s quite the character.
Just don’t draw a key.