Edwin was widely considered to be one of the better actors of his time. Some even called him the best overall. With a healthy, theatrical love for Shakespeare plays, he found any chance he could to get involved in one, a contestant among critics to be the finest Hamlet that there ever was, and ever will be. After being selected out of a few other popular performers for a role, as well as to visit his sister, he eagerly awaited at the train station. It was loud and populated with people, the air being filled with the noise and chatter among the others there. The day was chilly and filled with rainfall, making the station having an almost white noise…

One of the first memories I could recall was my father leaving the family. He didn’t speak a word to us, just walked toward the groves. I never saw him after that day. The part that disturbed me most was how everyone else took this. They all just stood there, watching on with knowing eyes. As if they knew that this day would come eventually. My mother was described to be “wild”, a feral if you will. She had escaped some kind of confinement that my father was bound to, as he only had time to visit us when he could before he vanished from my life entirely. I never got to know him very well. Through her, I was…

Will I ever be free? Will I ever be free of this tormenting life after death? To exist as a ghost wandering around in my own despair, just longing to be put back to rest? I remember how peaceful the long rest was. There I was, sleeping in my ancient tomb without a thought to the living. Complete solitude. I was not being a bother to anyone living. But all of that was snatched from me, many years later. Everything I had in life, and even in death were all taken away. Gone. And I still don’t know why to this day, and I probably never will. Suddenly, the past came rushing back to me. I remembered who I was,…

We see the same faces passing by every day, my faithful wife and I. Ghosts walking by our windows, their faces gaunt and pale. Their speech slurred, almost hauntingly so. They held up signs, although most of which read similar messages. “Will work for food,” “Feed me,” “Spare change?” You had to feel sorry for the beggars and homeless on the streets when you run a respected, neighborhood diner. Their faces unwashed, we thought that we could not just feed them for free. Then regular patrons would always demand the same treatment, that it would be unfair and unjust. Yet, at the same time, we couldn’t just leave them out there to just rot either. We had to help them.…

Hear me out. I don’t plan to stay here long. One way or another, this place won’t hold me. Yeah, sure – I know ‘they all’ say that. But trust me – I’m different. No, that’s not right – I’m probably bog-standard, but the circumstances are different. And the circumstances are going to make things a little difficult. Unless I tell someone – even if I tell someone. Since I was a little boy, I’ve had a problem. The doctors call it kleptomania, to me it’s a challenge. Not a challenge like the kind you see in the big budget block-busters, the one where the suave gentleman spy gets the girl, a fortune, and the respect of the people he’s…

They say that these woodlands contain the path to paradise itself. It has been a long way to reach these mythical gardens, my knees are scraped and bloodied from the various thorns nipping at my legs along the path. Snakes and sirens were attempting to seduce me with their hypocrisy, but I refused to heed their calling. I was a pure at heart, unspoiled by all temptation and evil. My path was blocked as something was swaying back and forth from a tree. I looked at it closely. I could make out a face with long black hair and some dark colored stubble leading down its chin. Its head was cast down with closed eyes. It was a dead man…

For me, collecting is more than a hobby – it is a way of life. To me, there is no greater thrill than that moment when you complete a set or find the one rare piece that has eluded antiquarians for years. I love things – cards, figures, dolls, puppets, watches. And as my desire to surround myself with material possessions grew, I found that I did not care for the things so much – but the thrill of collecting them. So after I’d collected several years worth of goods, it was only natural that the store grew up around me. Little Dreams Antiques. Say you know me from our little chat, and I’ll give you a discount on two…

-“Hey, Vince, are you there?”- she asked. -“I’m so excited about the mission, Vince! Wait until I tell my friends that my husband is in a scientific mission on outer space!”-she said -“Hahahaha, you’re such a sweetie, Vince! ”-she laughed -“Does Earth look beautiful from space, Vince?”-she smiled -“It is more than beautiful”- I murmured, while I observed the aurora borealis. -ooooo- It is just the third day of my mission at the Biology Satellite. I have no idea how long I’ll stay here, but what is for sure is that it’ll be a long time. I don’t expect to return to Earth before a year. It is poetic…somewhere in that huge planet, dear Alice is having dinner. The food…

You awoke in a cold sweat from your dream, looking around the dim room with a fright. You didn’t remember anything that happened in it except for a loud BANG! at the end, but you passed it off as just a nightmare. It had been a recurring nightmare you’ve had for the past few days now. You slowly arose from your bed, preparing your lunch for the day before heading off to work, stopping at a local store to pick up a little something along the way. As you drove, you reflected on your life before now. How your life-partner had recently passed away from an unknown cancer at such a young age. How your children had recently graduated from…

The demon looked much as I expected it to. Standing at roughly twice my height, its skin was cracked and burnt as if it had been pressurized under heat high enough to charbroil humans and strong enough to snap metals like twigs. Though hunched over, its vestigial wings flapped futilely as it threw itself against the barrier of table salt I’d scattered around it – all eight of its compound eyes blinking in confusion, and finally – understanding. “Good evening – it seems I am at your beck and call, o’ mighty summoner.” Bowing with overemphasized courtesy, the demon licked its lips with both of its tongues – not once taking its eyes off of me. “What is it that…

You awoke in a cold sweat from your dream, looking around the dim room with a fright. You didn’t remember anything that happened in it except for a loud BANG! at the end, but you passed it off as just a nightmare. It had been a recurring nightmare you’ve had for the past few days now. You slowly arose from your bed, preparing your lunch for the day before heading off to work, stopping at a local store to pick up a little something along the way. As you drove, you reflected on your life before now. How your life-partner had recently passed away from an unknown cancer at such a young age. How your children had recently graduated from…

We see the same faces passing by every day, my faithful wife and I. Ghosts walking by our windows, their faces gaunt and pale. Their speech slurred, almost hauntingly so. They held up signs, although most of which read similar messages. “Will work for food,” “Feed me,” “Spare change?” You had to feel sorry for the beggars and homeless on the streets when you run a respected, neighborhood diner. Their faces unwashed, we thought that we could not just feed them for free. Then regular patrons would always demand the same treatment, that it would be unfair and unjust. Yet, at the same time, we couldn’t just leave them out there to just rot either. We had to help them.…

The demon looked much as I expected it to. Standing at roughly twice my height, its skin was cracked and burnt as if it had been pressurized under heat high enough to charbroil humans and strong enough to snap metals like twigs. Though hunched over, its vestigial wings flapped futilely as it threw itself against the barrier of table salt I’d scattered around it – all eight of its compound eyes blinking in confusion, and finally – understanding. “Good evening – it seems I am at your beck and call, o’ mighty summoner.” Bowing with overemphasized courtesy, the demon licked its lips with both of its tongues – not once taking its eyes off of me. “What is it that…

Hear me out. I don’t plan to stay here long. One way or another, this place won’t hold me. Yeah, sure – I know ‘they all’ say that. But trust me – I’m different. No, that’s not right – I’m probably bog-standard, but the circumstances are different. And the circumstances are going to make things a little difficult. Unless I tell someone – even if I tell someone. Since I was a little boy, I’ve had a problem. The doctors call it kleptomania, to me it’s a challenge. Not a challenge like the kind you see in the big budget block-busters, the one where the suave gentleman spy gets the girl, a fortune, and the respect of the people he’s…

They say that these woodlands contain the path to paradise itself. It has been a long way to reach these mythical gardens, my knees are scraped and bloodied from the various thorns nipping at my legs along the path. Snakes and sirens were attempting to seduce me with their hypocrisy, but I refused to heed their calling. I was a pure at heart, unspoiled by all temptation and evil. My path was blocked as something was swaying back and forth from a tree. I looked at it closely. I could make out a face with long black hair and some dark colored stubble leading down its chin. Its head was cast down with closed eyes. It was a dead man…

For me, collecting is more than a hobby – it is a way of life. To me, there is no greater thrill than that moment when you complete a set or find the one rare piece that has eluded antiquarians for years. I love things – cards, figures, dolls, puppets, watches. And as my desire to surround myself with material possessions grew, I found that I did not care for the things so much – but the thrill of collecting them. So after I’d collected several years worth of goods, it was only natural that the store grew up around me. Little Dreams Antiques. Say you know me from our little chat, and I’ll give you a discount on two…

Will I ever be free? Will I ever be free of this tormenting life after death? To exist as a ghost wandering around in my own despair, just longing to be put back to rest? I remember how peaceful the long rest was. There I was, sleeping in my ancient tomb without a thought to the living. Complete solitude. I was not being a bother to anyone living. But all of that was snatched from me, many years later. Everything I had in life, and even in death were all taken away. Gone. And I still don’t know why to this day, and I probably never will. Suddenly, the past came rushing back to me. I remembered who I was,…

One of the first memories I could recall was my father leaving the family. He didn’t speak a word to us, just walked toward the groves. I never saw him after that day. The part that disturbed me most was how everyone else took this. They all just stood there, watching on with knowing eyes. As if they knew that this day would come eventually. My mother was described to be “wild”, a feral if you will. She had escaped some kind of confinement that my father was bound to, as he only had time to visit us when he could before he vanished from my life entirely. I never got to know him very well. Through her, I was…

-“Hey, Vince, are you there?”- she asked. -“I’m so excited about the mission, Vince! Wait until I tell my friends that my husband is in a scientific mission on outer space!”-she said -“Hahahaha, you’re such a sweetie, Vince! ”-she laughed -“Does Earth look beautiful from space, Vince?”-she smiled -“It is more than beautiful”- I murmured, while I observed the aurora borealis. -ooooo- It is just the third day of my mission at the Biology Satellite. I have no idea how long I’ll stay here, but what is for sure is that it’ll be a long time. I don’t expect to return to Earth before a year. It is poetic…somewhere in that huge planet, dear Alice is having dinner. The food…

Edwin was widely considered to be one of the better actors of his time. Some even called him the best overall. With a healthy, theatrical love for Shakespeare plays, he found any chance he could to get involved in one, a contestant among critics to be the finest Hamlet that there ever was, and ever will be. After being selected out of a few other popular performers for a role, as well as to visit his sister, he eagerly awaited at the train station. It was loud and populated with people, the air being filled with the noise and chatter among the others there. The day was chilly and filled with rainfall, making the station having an almost white noise…

Will I ever be free? Will I ever be free of this tormenting life after death? To exist as a ghost wandering around in my own despair, just longing to be put back to rest? I remember how peaceful the long rest was. There I was, sleeping in my ancient tomb without a thought to the living. Complete solitude. I was not being a bother to anyone living. But all of that was snatched from me, many years later. Everything I had in life, and even in death were all taken away. Gone. And I still don’t know why to this day, and I probably never will. Suddenly, the past came rushing back to me. I remembered who I was,…

You awoke in a cold sweat from your dream, looking around the dim room with a fright. You didn’t remember anything that happened in it except for a loud BANG! at the end, but you passed it off as just a nightmare. It had been a recurring nightmare you’ve had for the past few days now. You slowly arose from your bed, preparing your lunch for the day before heading off to work, stopping at a local store to pick up a little something along the way. As you drove, you reflected on your life before now. How your life-partner had recently passed away from an unknown cancer at such a young age. How your children had recently graduated from…

Edwin was widely considered to be one of the better actors of his time. Some even called him the best overall. With a healthy, theatrical love for Shakespeare plays, he found any chance he could to get involved in one, a contestant among critics to be the finest Hamlet that there ever was, and ever will be. After being selected out of a few other popular performers for a role, as well as to visit his sister, he eagerly awaited at the train station. It was loud and populated with people, the air being filled with the noise and chatter among the others there. The day was chilly and filled with rainfall, making the station having an almost white noise…

We see the same faces passing by every day, my faithful wife and I. Ghosts walking by our windows, their faces gaunt and pale. Their speech slurred, almost hauntingly so. They held up signs, although most of which read similar messages. “Will work for food,” “Feed me,” “Spare change?” You had to feel sorry for the beggars and homeless on the streets when you run a respected, neighborhood diner. Their faces unwashed, we thought that we could not just feed them for free. Then regular patrons would always demand the same treatment, that it would be unfair and unjust. Yet, at the same time, we couldn’t just leave them out there to just rot either. We had to help them.…

The demon looked much as I expected it to. Standing at roughly twice my height, its skin was cracked and burnt as if it had been pressurized under heat high enough to charbroil humans and strong enough to snap metals like twigs. Though hunched over, its vestigial wings flapped futilely as it threw itself against the barrier of table salt I’d scattered around it – all eight of its compound eyes blinking in confusion, and finally – understanding. “Good evening – it seems I am at your beck and call, o’ mighty summoner.” Bowing with overemphasized courtesy, the demon licked its lips with both of its tongues – not once taking its eyes off of me. “What is it that…

One of the first memories I could recall was my father leaving the family. He didn’t speak a word to us, just walked toward the groves. I never saw him after that day. The part that disturbed me most was how everyone else took this. They all just stood there, watching on with knowing eyes. As if they knew that this day would come eventually. My mother was described to be “wild”, a feral if you will. She had escaped some kind of confinement that my father was bound to, as he only had time to visit us when he could before he vanished from my life entirely. I never got to know him very well. Through her, I was…

They say that these woodlands contain the path to paradise itself. It has been a long way to reach these mythical gardens, my knees are scraped and bloodied from the various thorns nipping at my legs along the path. Snakes and sirens were attempting to seduce me with their hypocrisy, but I refused to heed their calling. I was a pure at heart, unspoiled by all temptation and evil. My path was blocked as something was swaying back and forth from a tree. I looked at it closely. I could make out a face with long black hair and some dark colored stubble leading down its chin. Its head was cast down with closed eyes. It was a dead man…

For me, collecting is more than a hobby – it is a way of life. To me, there is no greater thrill than that moment when you complete a set or find the one rare piece that has eluded antiquarians for years. I love things – cards, figures, dolls, puppets, watches. And as my desire to surround myself with material possessions grew, I found that I did not care for the things so much – but the thrill of collecting them. So after I’d collected several years worth of goods, it was only natural that the store grew up around me. Little Dreams Antiques. Say you know me from our little chat, and I’ll give you a discount on two…

-“Hey, Vince, are you there?”- she asked. -“I’m so excited about the mission, Vince! Wait until I tell my friends that my husband is in a scientific mission on outer space!”-she said -“Hahahaha, you’re such a sweetie, Vince! ”-she laughed -“Does Earth look beautiful from space, Vince?”-she smiled -“It is more than beautiful”- I murmured, while I observed the aurora borealis. -ooooo- It is just the third day of my mission at the Biology Satellite. I have no idea how long I’ll stay here, but what is for sure is that it’ll be a long time. I don’t expect to return to Earth before a year. It is poetic…somewhere in that huge planet, dear Alice is having dinner. The food…

Hear me out. I don’t plan to stay here long. One way or another, this place won’t hold me. Yeah, sure – I know ‘they all’ say that. But trust me – I’m different. No, that’s not right – I’m probably bog-standard, but the circumstances are different. And the circumstances are going to make things a little difficult. Unless I tell someone – even if I tell someone. Since I was a little boy, I’ve had a problem. The doctors call it kleptomania, to me it’s a challenge. Not a challenge like the kind you see in the big budget block-busters, the one where the suave gentleman spy gets the girl, a fortune, and the respect of the people he’s…