“I hear the first scream while buying watery gas station coffee. It’s a shrill thing, sharp and thick, more of a wrenched gasp than a shriek. But it affects me, nonetheless. I cringe by the coffee urns, hissing as black liquid burns my hand, and glance around. My heart climbs into my throat like a needy house cat. It takes me a moment to realize that nobody else hears it. There is a man in a yellow hardhat by the coolers, choosing between Dr. Pepper and Coke; there is an old woman raising a shaking finger and jabbing it toward one of the many scratch-offs behind the register; there is a kid, no older than fifteen, grabbing a warm pizza slice. But they all go about their business.”
Most Recent Short Story
Lakefront Property, Published in ParABnormal Magazine | Dec 2024