This once-flourishing farm community, wasting away —
Resorting to superstitious custom.
Disgusting.
Their only physical evidence was the crazed bust that once topped her tombstone —
inexplicably smashed; curious, but insufficient.
“Gentlemen,” VanKirk declared, “since you insist, you may exhume my daughter. I sincerely doubt you will find her. . . a vampire.”
Preposterous.
An entry from Chase’s diary about being a Darkling. . .
A (more or less) routine investigation ends in a flash. . .
There dwells a beast in the cheapest suite
at the local Motel 8,
where many a man and working girl
have met with grisly fate –
they say you get what you pay for!
This post was prompted by this week’s Trifextra writing challenge.
I, on the other hand, was not doing so well as my counterpart. . . the guy who was not only being me, but being a better me.
The tale of an old-fashioned witch trial. . .
I knew I was in the big time when he took his first breath.
A tale about how the mind can play tricks. . .
Shoemaker’s so lucky; his elves help.
A tuna boat meets with something strange. . .
Rob's Surf Report 