Sunday, August 13, 2017

Train to Busan. Zombies. Movie night.


Wow. I watched Train to Busan last night. Have you seen it? I was hooked in the first few minutes with the deer scene. How could a zombie movie person turn away? Even if you don't watch zombie movies, you might start now. I will never forget it. What scene affected you the most? Did you cry? I did.

So, what would you do? How would you survive? Would you give up or would you fight?

#zombies #TrainToBusan #emotionalwreck

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Photos.



Photos.

They should make you smile.  Feel good.

But, I feel sick.  I feel crazy.

I've felt something has been next to me, against me, close to me, for the last week.  But, when I look, there's nothing there.

I didn't know what to do, so I took pictures.

I grabbed my phone, and began taking selfies.  I took one in every room of the house.



I'm not alone.



There was something behind me.  It's in every photo.  A dark shadow of a person.

I'm scared.  It's 3:00 am in the morning.  I've been up all night.  I felt the shadow behind me.  I felt it getting closer.


It's here right now.  It's breathing on my neck.  I can feel it's icy breath.  I can smell it's putrid stench.

I just took another selfie.

It's not a shadow any more.  It's a man.  His head is close to mine. He's looking at me.  I know him.  He's the man that killed my mother.

He's been dead for ten years.





Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Tell me... What scares you?


      Tell me my friend... What are you afraid of?

      What fills your mind with pressure and fear?

      Is it made by a human, or is it a human?



Friday, December 23, 2016

Is this what will happen in a Nuclear War? What will we do?



Four minutes.

It takes four minutes for the train I ride to go through the tunnel.

At minute three, I knew something was wrong.

The train lost power. It went pitch black.  It kept rolling, and stopped just outside the tunnel entrance.

Not a word was spoken from the twenty or so of us in the train.


Deafening silence.


The world is blanketed in thick layers of grey powder.

The surrounding forest is nothing but rows of bare trunks sticking out of the ground like coarse hair.  No life.  Nothing.


The passengers all scrambled out.  Fighting.  Frantic.


I refused to move.


I don't know where the other passengers went, but I know where they are now.  They don't look right.  There is bubbly red foam dripping from their noses and mouths.  One of them is chewing on a small hand.  Another one, has long blond hair hanging from a piece of skin in his mouth.

They're scratching to get in.

They're leaving pieces of skin on the windows.


What do I do?


What do we do?


Sunday, October 30, 2016

Candle Maker







There was an old woman who lived in the woods...

Stories were told that she collected your bones.

She used your fat for candle wax, and set your head on stones.


Never, ever go into the woods... or you'll never come home.



Sunday, October 16, 2016

Another one of my favorites. What would you do?






I didn't remember what it was like to have two hands.  It had been so long.  You just get used to it.

I could not believe it when I got the call that it was going to happen. I was going to get a new hand.  They found the perfect match.

I imagined looking normal.  No more stares.  No more whispers.

I would be beautiful.  I would blend in.

Freedom.

It went well.  It took right away.  I am only a little bloated from the medicine that keeps my body from rejecting it.

It is a little bigger than my other hand.

It has been three months.  The doctors are impressed with my progress.  I am not so sure any more.

I asked them about what has been happening, but they don't listen.

No one is listening.  No one will hear me.

It moves.  It moves by itself.  Not a twitch.  A real movement, that I am not doing.

It does things.

It left me a message.  It said "Leave".  It wrote it.  It wrote it to me.

I don't want it any more.  I want it off.



I am free.

It is in the sink.  It won't talk to me anymore.  I am going to put it in the disposal.

I will shut it up forever.



Friday, October 14, 2016

Do you see ghosts?


A child.

Innocent, but sometimes frightening.

I've been seeing a child.  She looks to be about five years old.  She has long blond hair, and wears a summer dress.


It's winter.

I live in the woods.  There's no one nearby.

She's alone.

She never speaks.  She keeps at a distance.

If I get close, she evaporates into nothing.

She wants me to do something.  She's visiting me for a reason.  Maybe I am the only one who can see her.

Three days ago,  she started coming closer.  I could see dirt on her dress and face.

She never smiles.

Yesterday, she was at the end of the driveway.

Today she's outside my window.  Looking in at me.

I went outside.  She let me follow her to the end of the road.

It ends at the forest.  She walked about ten feet in.

When I caught up with her, she slowly sat on the ground.  I sat by her side.

She looked real, she looked alive.  I knew she wasn't.

She looked at me.  Then at the ground in front of us.  Frantically, she started digging.  I found myself digging with her.  My fingers started bleeding.  My hands became numb from the cold.  But, they were out of my control.  They kept on digging.  Soon, long blond strands of hair tangled between my fingers.

I wept.  I knew what was there.

When her face was exposed, I was able to stop.  Her ghost was no longer beside me.

I never saw her again.