Squirt gun full of poison

Category: Speculative

The stories that are hard to categorize. Weirdness. Magic. Spirits, but no horror.

Day Late, Armageddon Short

Sticky post

By William DeGeest

                The lead rider looked down at the slightly more than middle aged woman that was standing in front of him in the middle of her driveway.

                He raised his head to scan the landscape. Straight ahead was an unremarkable farmhouse and a few outbuildings. The grass was mostly brown and crispy. The sky was a sickly yellow with a dull sun trying to shine through. Off in the distance of the flat plain, green and gold lightning flashed from rust colored clouds. Occasionally tiny pieces of ash fell.

                Turning back to the woman, he looked her up and down. Flannel shirt, denim bib overalls, and muck boots. Long gray-brown hair loosely tied up in back. A gray and white cat came up and rubbed against her leg. He turned in his saddle to see his three companions. They shrugged.

                “What the f…” he muttered.

The Devil and the Details

 

Hank Dobson paced back and forth in the living room of his trailer house, taking nervous drags off his cigarette. Due the modest size of the house and the stacks of boxes, he made many turns in little time. The sixty two years of life etched deep in a face that flashed irritation and sometimes near panic. His hands were in constant motion along with the shaking of his head.

Purge

The lobby was polished and luminous, still having the shine from the brand new construction.  It wasn’t the biggest in the city and maybe not even the fanciest, but it was definitely a high dollar place.  Karen’s discomfort with the building was reflected in her every move.  She felt as out of place as a bird at the bottom of the sea.

At the elevators she stopped and looked back to the outer glass of the lobby.  The lights of the nighttime city went a little in and out of focus as she said aloud, “I shouldn’t be here.”

Life of a Dead Man

Life of a Dead Man

By

William DeGeest

Suggested by Greg Beaner

Ghosts do not spend much time contemplating the living. They don’t spend much time contemplating much at all. They exist in their in-between state, attached to someplace or something, not even knowing what they are clinging to.

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