The Dust

Billy November 16, 2018 4 Comments

–Please get permission before adapting any of my stories. Thanks!

The Dust

It drifted in chaos and misery, birthed of hatred, mired in rage. There was something. From the nothing there was something, as in the beginning. It used whatever spark of fury that remained within its confused and swirling existence to try to find purchase, but all it found was dust. Yet there was something. This was new. Sensation? No. It had sensed and it had awakened. Now it raged in its prison trying to… focus? Trying to feel? Trying to… Was the sensation found in the attempt? Was there something else, or had it awakened itself in vain? It did not know. It fell back into its madness. (more…)

Samhain

Billy October 31, 2018 3 Comments
This is a story I wrote for a friend’s blog. The prompt was this picture. I cannot find the link to the story on her blog but when I find it I’ll post it. Happy Halloween!

Please get permission to adapt/narrate, or otherwise use my stories. Thank you.

Samhain

By William Stuart

The whole thing started as a curiosity piece, part of a week-long Halloween-themed series. It’s the sort of maudlin fluff that serious journalists despise, but what we all end up doing so much more of than actual reporting. This is the stuff of small town newspaper. Talk with an old lady whose cat was rescued by the fire department. Cover the ribbon cutting at the new Chevron station. Interview old folks and ask them what it was like to grow old in this no-horse town in the middle of nowhere. But I digress. It was nearing Halloween and the boss wanted to report on some dark and mysterious things in our town’s history. (more…)

Leaves in the River

Billy October 17, 2018 3 Comments

Leaves in the River

Inspired by the Sea Wolf song of the same name.

(Video linked at the end of the story.)

It was one of those rare seasons where Halloween landed on a Saturday, so big plans were made by all. All the bars and clubs had drink specials and everyone with half a mind was having a party, including us. Zack, Teddy, and I had been planning this party for weeks, as it would be the first major event in our new place off campus. And as things turned out, we had a pretty good crowd that night.

The house was near to full and there were kids milling about in both the front and back yards. I wandered around talking with people and drinking beer most of the night, with the occasional Jell-O shot thrown in for good measure. Most everyone had at least some kind of costume, so there was plenty of vinyl and latex scattered about accentuated by the orange and green party bulbs we’d installed in all the fixtures. Zack had made several mix CDs of Halloween classics to play through the night so the three of us stood back and admired our handiwork while “Monster Mash” played in the background.

“Dude, we nailed it,” Teddy said, his voiced muffled by the latex Freddy Krueger mask he wore.

“Hell yeah, we did,” Zack agreed, looking sinister in his white jumpsuit and fake eyelash as Alex from A Clockwork Orange, “Party of the century!”

I nodded and raised my bottle in agreement, but I was no longer listening. For there, near the kitchen, looking a bit confused, was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was dressed as a witch or a vampire or something. Medium-length blonde hair with black streaks framed a pretty, almost pale face with large eyes that were accentuated by dark makeup. She wore a black shirt with fishnet sleeves, and a black skirt that ended just above her knees revealing a few inches of fishnet that plunged into tall black boots. Over her shoulders, a simple vinyl cape hung to her waist. She held an unlit cigarette in one hand and a beer bottle in the other as she looked around. (more…)

When I was about six…

Billy September 21, 2018 47 Comments

…my dad had been fixing something with super glue. When I walked into the room, he looked grim and my mom looked worried.

“Do you think alcohol?” She asked.

“I don’t think it’ll do a thing,” he answered.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Your dad glued his fingers together,” Mom answered.

Dad held up his hand. His pointer finger was stuck to his thumb in an ‘OK’ gesture.

Mom continued, “We need nail polish remover but I’m all out. There has to be something we can use.”

As she said this, I’d moved closer to Dad and was studying his fingers. My father was a teaser and  a prankster. He was always saying silly things or telling little stories to see me puzzle them out. The good thing about this was that I had a loving and involved father. The bad part was, I could never really know if he was messing with me or not.

I sat there staring at his fingers while he and Mom talked about alternatives. Mom finally went and got her purse and started heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To the store to get something,” she said.

“Can I come?”

“Not this time. I’m just there and back.”

“Why?”

“I need the stuff to get your dad’s fingers apart,” she said

I turned back to Dad’s glued fingers, which, by now I’d decided were not glued and he was just messing with me. That or they were glued but I played with glue all the time and it wasn’t that strong. As he called to Mom to ask her to pick up something else, I reached up and grabbed both of his digits. Before he could pull away, I yanked as hard as I could and boy, did those fingers come unstuck!

Dad yelped in pain and stood up, kicking the chair backwards and making all kinds of noise. Mom came running back in, yelling, “What happened?”

I saw the most rare variety of rage welling up inside my father. I had just messed up big-time. He hopped around huffing and puffing and holding his fingers with his other hand. Blood began to drip from between his hands and I knew I was in serious trouble.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” He screamed. Mom came running back into the room, throwing her purse on the floor and spilling it everywhere. I watched in horror as lipstick rolled in my direction and I knew I was toast.

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!” They screamed in unison. They didn’t have to tell me twice. I ran as fast as I could.

The next few minutes were torture. How much trouble was I in? How badly had I hurt my dad? Oh man, this was at least a spanking. Probably no TV for a while. OH NO! What if they took away some toys???!!! 

I sat on my bed for what felt like forever waiting for one of them to come in. I think the stress of the situation was just too much because the next thing I knew, my dad was shaking me awake and it was dark outside.

He sat on the bed next to me and said in a quiet and soothing voice, “I’m sorry I yelled. It just hurt, that’s all. I know you were just trying to help.”

I relaxed a bit when he tousled my hair and patted my shoulder. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, son. It’s okay,” he said, “Now you know.”

As he hugged me, I looked down at his hand.  He had a ball of gause wrapped around the pointer finger of his left hand. His thumb, however, was unbandaged although it looked chunky, bloody and raw.

“Daddy? Why do you only have a band-aid on your finger? Isn’t your thumb hurt too?”

He held out his hand for me to have a closer look. It was then that I saw something that still makes me shudder to this day. “No, son, my thumb is just fine. It just has the pad of my finger glued to it.”