Down the Rabbit Hole

I had a boyfriend, Jasper, who collected rabbits. He didn’t really own them; they acted more like strays he had picked up off the street. He’d let the rabbits roam free in his house. I’d be sitting in a chair and see a ball of white fluff scurry by. I loved it. Sometimes we made …

What Waits in The Tall Grass

If she hadn’t noticed the strange smell, Rosemary would’ve stepped right on the rotting carcass. She bent down to examine the body, a dead bat. It lay prostrate on the brown doormat. Most of its stomach and skin had been liquefied by a trail of ants and flies were already circling around it. Instead of …