M. Anne Avera

It was one of those days at the shop. As if a gust of wind had pushed them all inside.

There was something in the way.  It had been like this for a long time—one year and three days.

Am I no more than a bloomed fever hours unchecked, a wilted promise, small as petals on a child’s

The dead one tried to show me hell, but it was a pale imitation of the horror I can paint

The legend had seemed cute from the safety of her couch. An eight-foot-tall, half-human, half-elk monster haunted the campground, seen

The skin was being flayed from his palms, but he knew he had to keep going. Under a hot Mojave

Winter nights are long and cold in the heart of the snowbelt, that area of southwestern Ontario that has Lake

“So long as you write it away regularly, nothing can really hurt you.” - Shirley Jackson “Forefinger & Thumb“ by

The chainsaw's scream died, and in the sudden silence, Wes knew the forest listening. "Hear that?"

Where there is no imagination, there is no horror. -Arthur Conan Doyle “A Cosmic Concerto”- Bradley Ramsey Alfred was