I stood in the shadows at the edge of the silent alleyway, enfolded in early morning darkness. Across the street, the neon bar sign flashed “Mel’s Brewery” once every three seconds. Beneath the name, on an alternating three seconds, it flashed the question, “Ready for a beer?” and the correct time on the hands of a neon clock, now one-forty-six.… (more…)
1. Writers write. Leaders lead, cooks cook, writers write. If you are a writer, you write. That you write well, that you write many words or that you write in a particular genre, is all description, detail after the fact. A writer writes, so to be a writer, you must write. The intent of the statement is not to ensure… (more…)
The man carried the large bundle over one shoulder as he padded quickly down the stairs. Light from the street filtered through the sheer curtains but otherwise the darkness was complete. He almost tripped over the small dog gasping for air at the foot of the stairs, poison-filled froth dribbled from its small mouth. Poor pup, needed to be done… (more…)
It was a seventy short years after the crash of the Blue Star when Sarc looked out from under his cap, the rain stinging his face. The wind blew constantly, pushing raindrops parallel to the ocean’s surface. He scanned the horizon, eyes squinted hearing the faint beating of the surf upon the rocks. He scanned the ocean for rocks but… (more…)
In essence, Little Jim’s existence has its basis in stories told 2-3 years after the beginning of the infestation. Stories began to surface telling of a teenage boy, endowed with all the powers of a Host, but without all the psychotic craziness. In all of the stories, the boy appears during a Host attack and saves the day. Sometimes he kills the Host… (more…)