EMJenkinson

Eliza hurried as she prepared her daughter's birthday dessert, both frustration and excitement running rampant in her mind. Her husband rarely let her visit with her daughter, especially on the child's birthday, simply for the fear that the girl would "catch her mother's crazy." He didn't seem to comprehend – no, he didn't seem to even want to understand – that "crazy" wasn't simply caught like the common illness. That, and Eliza was most certainly not crazy. Her mind was perfectly healthy. Convincing him that she was perfectly sane was pointless, however. All he would do is vehemently deny such a possibility. This time, though, he

He stood at the edge of the cliff, his dark eyes fixed on the mangled skeleton that rested eternally on the jagged rocks below. The surf had torn away most of the remains, but some of them simply stuck to the rock like food in teeth. No amount of nudging from the sea would free them of their resting place. Bits of red cloth clung desperately to the bleached bones. A wicked grin teased at the corner of his lips as he silently cursed the woman that the bones had once belonged to. "What are you doing, love?" a voice questioned quietly, its tone enough of a hint above a whisper to identify it as female. Arms snaked around his waste as she draw h

There is a spider on the wall. It crawls from the corner to the opposite side of the curtain. It is above my desk. What if it hops down? Will I panic? Or will I proceed to beat it to death with a shoe? The spider is looking at me. It has stopped. It turns a little bit. Could it be lost, on that great white expanse of nothingness? No, it turns to me again. If it were closer, I imagine I might be able to see a glare in its many faceted eyes. It moves a little more. Is it dancing? Oh, what a frightening thought! A spider dancing above my desk. It still twirls about in place, occasionally taking a step here and then a step there. My dinner is a

"I found it! I found it!" exclaimed an excited old man as he burst through the door of a local newstation. His thinning white hair was disheveled and his piercing blue eyes were lit by an unrecognizable flame. The secretary behind the desk lofted a dark brow, tossing her head to clear her vision of hair as she smacked loudly on a piece of red gum. She wasn't young. Middle-aged, perhaps. "Found what?" she inquired. A grin spread across the man's papery lips. When he answered, his voice held no little amount of awe. "The Fountain of Youth," he breathed, exhilarated. "Ha! And I'm an actress in disguise!" snorted the woman behind the desk. She

"I remember the house I grew up in. It was old. I remember even more vividly the attic. It's entrance wasn't in the ceiling or up a set of stairs located on the opposite side of a door in at the end of the upstairs hallway. It was in a closet. My closet, to be exact. The door knob was rusted shut. How or why it was like that, I never could figure out, and I never bothered. After all, at night I would hear such strange noises. Sometimes there would be screaming. Other times, there would be this thudding that wouldn't go away. Every now and then, I swore I could hear someone knocking on the door in my closet. Yet whenever I answered, my parents

Hear the rainbow – that sweet tinkling of colours a splash — many hues collide!

Hear the rainbow – that sweet tinkling of colours a splash — many hues collide!