Author
Eric Lindbom
Mason walked up and down the living room of his house on East Street. He was a fat man, with heavy, dark eyes and two generous chins. The plump fingers of one hand, his right, were splayed around a glass… Continue Reading →
I knew she was a smart little girl. Lots of kids are smart, and in lots of different ways. The word special gets thrown around quite a bit, and I hesitate to use it. In Sally’s case, I think… Continue Reading →
He ran. He didn’t know where he ran. It was all lights and streets and his fear chasing him, finally chasing him. He finally gained enough control to remember a house near where he was, where he could go, where… Continue Reading →
Stacy strained her gaze through the stifling, dark living room to look at the clock again…and then sighed, annoyed at her own stupidity. It was, of course, two minutes to midnight. It had been two minutes to midnight since… Continue Reading →
Wanna see his birthday pics? The message seemed innocent enough. What Jake couldn’t get over was the packaging, a white envelope shoved under the slit of their hotel room door where it conjoined to the next room. Jake and Jan… Continue Reading →
The traffic tailed back as far as he could see, a panorama of red tail lights. In the rear-view mirror, headlights jostled for attention. He drummed his hands on the steering wheel, desperate to be home. Every second that… Continue Reading →
Scritchity, scratchity, tap tap tap. The incessant skittering continues day and night – especially at night – from the apartment next door. It’s as though rats were scampering through the walls between my apartment and hers. But, I know it’s… Continue Reading →
Three, maybe four hundred people are packed into this sweaty pub. I’ve been gigging all my life, but I’ve never seen anything like this. Finally, an audience that gets me. I’m sat on the stool singing, ‘Isobel’, strumming my battered… Continue Reading →
Found Amongst the Private Memoirs of Doctor Alvis Mārtiņš, Late of Rīga. Filips Finks was still alive when I reached the windswept courtyard on that dark April morning in ’32, though I could see from his injuries that his time… Continue Reading →