Once upon a time, there was a woman who struggled with nightmares.
When the summer faded into fall and the season of All Hallows Eve approached, the dreams grew worse as the days shortened, the skies darkened, and the world cloaked itself in horror.
One year, she formed a plan to drive the dreams away. She woudl find scraps of horror in pictures and paintings - fuel for nightmares - and bind them in words, so they could harm her no more. For the month of October she would take one picture per day, write one scrap of horror fiction. She'd invite her friends on social media to do the same and, thus, a tradition was born.
Our host in this endeavor, Andrea Trask, is continuing the tradition this year. You can visit, play along, or even buy her complete collection of the first year's tales.
For the nonce, I'll play along.
Without further ado, here's Nightmare Fuel 2013, Day 1
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| Insomnia by Demon Flame Image by DemonFlame http://demonflame.deviantart.com/art/Insomnia-178609421 Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial- No Derivative Works 3.0 License |
On the Swing
by L Czhorat Suskin
by L Czhorat Suskin
Remembering 1982
I remember Pacman. I sitting on the thick carpet the color of autumn leaves. Remember the feel of the joystick, having to push a little too hard to one side. That dots were one point instead of ten and the ghosts were all yellowish. Made it feel kinda bush-league, but still.. pacman.
Something else to do? See her. On the swing. I remember forgetting, remember chasing the ghosts and remember the next day the grownups talking in hushed voices, the tootight squeezing hugs from my mother, father staring out the window. Like stone.
The controller never moved left after that. I never played Pacman again.
I remember never seeing her again remember looking remember dying remember
I remember
pacman?
I remember.
It's fading.
The swing.
I remember the swing.
I have to get back to the swing.
I'll wait this time. For as long as it takes. I'll wait here.
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