Ghost Dream

The CD played.  When it was over, Tommy knew what he had to do.  In fact, it was more than that.  He actually HAD to do it.  He got up, walked onto his back porch, walked off of the dock, when his feet landed on the lakebed, kept walking until he came to the middle […]

While on a hike six years ago, he had come across the body of a lost hiker.  Bloated, crawling with beetles and maggots, the thing that really stuck with him was the smell.  Like pork that had gone bad, tossed in the garbage, and left to sit out in the bin for a week under

The dark wrapped Tommy like a warm blanket.  Even though the imagery of the dream had been startling, he came out of it feeling calm and warm.  He looked out toward where the cross in his dream had been; he was struck by another sharp pain in his chest as his eyes settled on the

Read part one of this story here. A cold hand brushed Tommy’s cheek. The touch dilated his eyes, turning his world into a bright light shining into his soul. He blinked several times in an attempt to clear his vision. Slowly, his vision resolved into something more coherent, although his mind refused the images he

Tommy Sheridan’s gaze reflected off the placid lake from the comfort of his favorite thinking spot on the doc ofk his two story log cabin home in Hillside, Maine. The melancholy whispers of the sandpipers called out in dissonant harmony with the shrill soprano of a broad hawk in search of dinner. The sandpaper groans