Excerpt: The Ultimate Soundtrack for Run-Away Days

Red sneakers slopped out of the shattered car window as he stumbled across the cool bedroom floor to the toilet. He hadn’t heard the screaming metal twisting as it tore through the red light and into the car crossing the intersection; all he’d heard was Atlas bark, and distant screams in his dreams.

Short Story: Dialtone

A PHONE CALL TO “Samantha Bishop” HAS BEEN PLACED FROM THE BLUERIDGE COUNTY CORRECTIONAL FACILITY FROM INMATE #673 “Ethan Hill”. TO ACCEPT THIS CALL, PLEASE PRESS “1”.

Short Story: Basements and Bombshells

The old rusty helmet was big on the child’s head, tilting far down over his eyes with each lilting step....The dark hand of devastation was drawing nearer, tightening its grip around the soldiers of the 142nd Army Infantry Division and choking them out one by one with fingers of lead bullets and mortars.

Short Story: Stardust Souls

I once knew a girl made of fragments of shattered glass. She was beautiful. The array of colors and shapes would refract the sunlight, splashing a rainbow of light and hope across the whitewashed walls, creating beauty out of broken pieces.

Short Story: The Fault in Flying

For the few blissful seconds before the crash, I forgot. I forgot it all, all the joy, all the pain, all the regret. And I was free. Free to be, free to see, free to die. To die on my terms. Because I had always known it would end this way, free-falling from the hospital roof.

Short Story: William

Phineas Wilson McGregory was not a particularly kind man. Perhaps it had something to do with his not particularly normal name. No one really knew the reason behind his permanent scowl, though popular lore leaned toward a ghastly childhood trauma involving a tea kettle, red wheelbarrow, and the always unfortunate Uncle Matheson.

Short Story: Emilio

The morning began normally enough. My friend greeted me as I opened my eyes to the smell of baking bread filtering in from the shattered window across the room. I’d had another nightmare. I was being chased by the clutches of the blinding light, my companion gone from my side.

Short Story: Pale Horse and a Runaway Train

Although the room was silent, save for the whir of the A/C unit in the window, his head was filled with noise. It was too loud, too much, all of his thoughts zipping and careening through his head in abstract patterns as if mirroring the tie he was wearing.

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