Tuesday, July 2, 2019


No, I'm not ill. "Virus" is the title of my latest completed short story, which has been sent to the editor of a specific anthology, which I can't yet name, though you can be assured I'll be hollering it all over the place if and when the story is accepted. It is, to my mind, pretty creepy.

Here's a wee excerpt. In the tale, Scotty Griffin has witnessed a number of unusual phenomena. Strange images appearing on his computer display. His wife, Kendelle, undergoing a bizarre physical change. An unearthly light on the horizon. In this scene, he's concerned about Kendelle, who hasn't come home after several hours away. He hears distinct sounds of movement on the upper floor of the house, which should be unoccupied....

Another low shuffling sound. Definitely from upstairs.


His voice sounded stark and hollow. No reply came.

He went up the stairs to their bedroom.


The bathroom.


The spare bedroom. The closets.


He looked toward Kendelle’s art room. In there, she liked to paint, draw, practice calligraphy. The door hung half open. He was sure he had closed it when he came out.

Like a black ghost materializing, a shadow formed on the door.

The shadow of a human figure.

It was very tall.

His throat so parched he could barely utter words, he croaked, “Who’s there?”

From out of thin air, a deep, sonorous voice answered.

“No one.”


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