He beat me senseless, pummeling his hard, huge fists into my face until I was unrecognizable.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I love you, son.”

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I saw her sitting alone at the table at the back, sipping a glass of wine, and went upto her and tapped her on the shoulders. She spun around, and when she saw me her eyes widened and she said: “Dear God, how did you get out from my head?”

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Rating: 7.0/10 (22 votes cast)

Knock, knock

When I was a kid, there was SOMETHING invisible in my room that would lift the handle on my dresser and let it drop, “clink!”, if I stayed up too late. I had forgotten all about it until the knocker on my front door started knocking itself on clear, windless nights.

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Marjorie loves the broad evening sky: a huge, hundred mile canvas of ambrosia, piled massively like a heavenly feast but delicately shaded in purple, grey and blue. She would see more from the balcony, her concrete diving board – but the ground leaps at her like a tiger, murderous and terrifying, whirling and falling and leaping again.

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Rating: 6.3/10 (12 votes cast)