Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


March 15th 2013 in Microfiction

Once he found the place, he visited every year; oddly fascinating, to see your name carved into the stone with dates from another century. The press made a huge deal about the annual visit, which amused him to no end. If they only knew the real mystery behind the mystery. Poe moved slowly away from his grave, an old man now. He spied a woman a couple of monuments over who reached out to that marker tentatively, almost in disbelief. He wondered if she, too, had found her own name and history.

Comments are closed.

Jimmy went down to the edge of the black water and started the chant. Out in the depths of the ocean, a pulsing luminescence appeared and, at the edge of the surf, there was agitation (as if the water were about to boil). The chanting grew urgent and the waves doubled in size, forcing Jimmy […]

Previous Entry

Gladys would drop the cookies off, apologizing for the inconvenience, and ask the person to give them to their (spouse, child, friend, neighbor). She would take herself for coffee and a doughnut, and return in 20 minutes to pick the lock on the back door and retrieve all of the sweets they hadn’t eaten (careful […]

Next Entry