Free short story for you today and tomorrow, in celebration of Halloween.
I started to write this as blog posts, but I was afraid you all might think I was going insane.
It’s a short horror story. I have it for sale, but honestly, don’t pay for it! It might not be that good. I’m not exactly a horror author. For free, though, it might be just what you are looking for. This story may be the only horror story where the first victim is a Jacob sheep. It’s like a ten minute read. I call it,
I’ve been keeping the sheep in some flimsy, portable fencing during the day, and then going out before dark and herding them into more secure fencing for the night. This evening, while binge watching Parks and Recreation, I forgot to go outside and secure them before dark. I went out late, and the sheep were all there, ridiculously happy to see me. But there was something else out there, too, and it freaked me out.
I heard something breathing at me from the east. I pointed the flashlight at it. Nothing there. But still, the breathing,
Hastily, I secured the sheep, and then hesitated. I pointed the flashlight again towards the east, but there was nothing. Just an empty field. Then, sticks breaking. Whatever it was, it was large and broke sticks when it walked.
I went inside the big fence, and walked back toward the house inside the fence, surrounded by sheep with big horns who like me. Would they defend me, if pressed to? Or would they let it eat me? I wished I had brought a large stick.
Still, the breathing. It sounded like a horse. Then the footsteps in the forest again. My neighbors don’t keep horses. Or anything, for that matter.
I reached a point where I had to go outside of the fence again to get home. I did so, quickly. I pretended to be large and imposing. But I am not large and imposing.
Finally, home! Safe inside, I realized my heart was racing and I was totally out of breath!
What was it? An escaped neighbor’s cow? A bear? But why couldn’t I see it with the flashlight?
Last week, I went on a road trip with Zanimal and BAH up to Niagara Falls, Canada, and then on to Jeanette, Pennsylvania (just outside of Pittsburgh). I have a lot of family on my dad’s side around Pittsburgh, so we were visiting the extended relatives, and we stayed with my Uncle, Dennis C. Lee. (Dennis used to live in San Francisco, when I was a kid. We even lived in the same flat on 28th Street, for a time: little me, Dennis, my dad, my Aunt Lou, Uncle David, and Bozo the Dog. Good times.)
Uncle Dennis is an artist and a musician, most famously a member of the 70’s punk band The Living Daylights.
Uncle Dennis still plays music and makes art. Zanimal and I even did an open mic with him (possibly to be posted later this week, if I can figure it out).
Dennis told us a story while we were there. Apparently, there is a man who believes that Dennis C. Lee killed John Lennon. This man, call him “Mr. Crazy,” bases his theory on an analysis of Uncle Dennis’s handwriting, which Mr. Crazy says is exactly like that of Stephen King. And therefore, Stephen King is really Dennis C. Lee. (Or Dennis C. Lee is Stephen King?) And he killed John Lennon. Just for a point of reference, here is a recent picture of my dad’s brother, Dennis C. Lee:
And here is a picture of Stephen King:
They don’t look alike, do they?
So, I’m not sure how Mr. Crazy goes from “handwriting like Stephen King” to “Stephen King a.k.a. Dennis C. Lee killed John Lennon,” but he does. And how do we know he does? Because Mr. Crazy painted it on the side of a van, and he drives his van around the country and hands out pamphlets, explaining it all to anyone who will listen.
I do not have the pamphlet.
In the scheme of things, this is a drop in the ocean of Uncle Dennis stories. Every time I have had a chance to verify an Uncle Dennis story, it’s turned out to be true. Some of the stories have approached us on the streets of San Francisco. It’s all true, except…
Uncle Dennis didn’t kill John Lennon. He was in San Francisco that day.
Addendum, Dennis writes: “That is correct, I did not kill John Lennon. Nor would I ever. I loved his music, his style, everything about him. But here’s when it gets really weird… There’s a conspiracy theorist that claims Stephen King, the famous writer, was the actual killer of the ex-Beatle. And strongly implies on a website that because my handwriting is similar to King’s, I might be King, and I might have shot him. This insane guy has held this belief for 36 years, since shortly after Lennon was shot. http://www.lennonmurdertruth.com/skletters.html“
I saw this show on the Discovery Channel about how the aliens came and built all of the pyramids on Earth? They had some compelling evidence:
Rocks were moved thousands of miles, “before the invention of the wheel.”
From an arial view, the pyramids look like a circuit board. (Which pyramids are these, you ask? It kind of doesn’t matter.)
The angles and slopes of the pyramids are so precise, only aliens could do that.
The materials used in the Mayan pyramids are heat resistant, which means they must have been used as a launch pad for ships.
All of this sort of rests on an assumption that people just get smarter and smarter. We assume the aliens must have built the pyramids because we are so much smarter than people were a thousand or two thousand years ago. The aliens must be smart, because they invented space travel, right? No, no, no. This is all wrong. Aliens didn’t build the pyramids. The pyramids were built by “primitive” people who were way smarter than we are now. “Wheels weren’t invented yet” is so bizarre. Why not? Perhaps wheels were invented, and then forgotten. The same with space ships. People don’t get smarter and smarter with time, but rather stupider.
It’s a new theory of evolution: we’re just getting stupider all the time.
All this time, we thought we were making progress. And we weren’t.
It was a cold, dark night. She went outside to go see the animals in the barn. On the way out, she heard footsteps behind her. A car drove by. In the reflection of the headlights, she saw it. The Deer Man: A figure with the head of a deer, the body of a man. She came running home and told her parents her story. And she even drew us a picture:
Now, Big Z and her father are out hunting the Deer Man. And I am at home. It is warm in here, and someone needs to call the sci-fi channel for them when they scream.
Today, we took a road trip to Belleville, Wisconsin for their 30th Annual UFO Days Parade. The parade commemorates the day in 1987 when a UFO was spotted by local police in Belleville, Wisconsin. (More about the original event here.) (Also click on that link if you want to feel nostalgic about web sites circa 1998.)
Belleville’s UFO Days had all of the charms of a small town parade, UFO alien style.
With all of the hoopla around this U.S. presidential election and that crazy dude Tim Kaine saying all of his crazy stuff (I mean really, can we go a day without hearing something crazy that Tim Kaine said?) the news stories that really matter seem to have been largely ignored! Namely, this picture of the Loch Ness Monster, taken by Ian Bremner:
Unlike most photos of Nessie, this one is crystal clear. Bremner (a whiskey warehouse worker) said he wasn’t looking for Nessie, he just noticed this later, after he took the picture. He wasn’t even really a believer in Nessie, before this.
Wow. I mean, wow, right? Unbelievable.
I don’t know how anyone could still be in doubt about the Loch Ness Monster. Illustrious filmmaker Werner Herzog has even made a documentary, Incident at Loch Ness. Watch the film, and then you will see. Nessie lives.
Keep looking for magic, and as Fox Mulder would say, “The truth is out there.”