Emerson Short

  I first noticed when I was in my kitchen at 3 a.m., getting a glass of water. I suffer from insomnia, so I’m often up at that time, wandering around my house aimlessly. I live alone, so the only person this bothers is myself.  I heard a car door shut and saw my neighbor across the street going inside his house, followed by two girls wearing sequined dresses and strappy heels. This wasn’t suspicious in and of itself; From the few neighborhood interactions I’d had with my neighbor, I knew he enjoyed clubbing. I just figured he’d gotten lucky tonight.  I finished my glass of water and watched my neighbor’s lights turn on. His curtains were drawn, so I chuckled and muttered, “Have a good time, man.” I turned away, and retreated to my living room, watching T.V. until the sun came up. It felt as though I had dozed off, though I doubted I was so lucky, when, through my living room front window, I saw my neighbor get into his car, alone, and pull out of his driveway. I frowned. Where were th

  Rain fell in waves over a small sleepy town. The streets were devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of pedestrians and passersby, most opting to splurge for a cab in this sort of weather. A few people rushed by, hunched over, desperate to avoid the rain.  Birdie Schmidt walked slowly, admiring the way the water made the pavement shine. She loved the rain. Some people gave her strange looks, which she supposed was fair, since she wore only a short summer dress, despite the cold.  Birdie was on her way home from work, and swung her purse gleefully as she hopped over puddles. She was very glad to be done for today.  She was nearly halfway home when she noticed a strange man following her. He did not rush through the bad weather as the others on the street did, but rather, walked with a steady determination. He wore a black raincoat with the hood up, hiding his face. Birdie glanced over her shoulder a few times, and noticed he did in fact seem to be following her, even when she took an u

I wake up disoriented, my head pounding. I sit up, surveying the situation around me. I can’t recall what had happened. The sky is nearly black, and stars are beginning to appear. I wonder how long I've been unconscious. I lay on the pavement of a long, derelict section of highway. To my right, a large bus is on its side. The windows are shattered, and smoke rises from the engine, but there are no flames. Maybe there had been earlier. I stand up, brushing myself off. I have a scrape on my arm, and my shirt is torn, probably from this apparent crash. I feel a bruise on my head. I must have hit it somewhere along the line. I approach the bus, part of me hoping there will be people, and part of me hoping there won’t be, seeing as it’s in poor condition.  I bend down to examine the bus, but it is empty. I notice the windshield is also shattered. It looks as though something hit it from the outside. There is blood on it. Did we hit a deer? Where is everyone?  I stumble around the bus, t

  I’ve had a hell of a day.  I awoke at 7:00 am to the familiar sound of my son crying. He was only three years old, so this was a common way for me to wake up each morning. My husband had already left for work at his grueling job at a warehouse nearly an hour away. I pulled myself out of bed, sad to leave my soft pillow behind. Out the window, I saw the sun barely rising over the muted green fields, casting long shadows from the occasional cow that inhabited them. I shuffled down the hall and into my son’s room. He lay tangled in blankets, still crying. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” I cooed, and removed his troublesome blankets. He stopped crying and stretched. I chuckled, and lifted him in my arms, balancing him on my hip. He was so heavy now. I slowly wobbled into the hall, and down the dark narrow staircase to the kitchen, my son squirming as I went.  “Breakfast time?” I suggested playfully, setting him carefully down in his high chair.  He giggled and nodded emphatically. I noticed h

Once upon a time, there were two brothers named Robert and Eli Smith. They lived deep in the woods, far from any town or settlements. They had built a small cabin, nestled among the trees, where they resided. They had lived there since their parents had died many years before.  The year was 1841, and winter was beginning to fall over the forest. Snow was starting to stick to the cold, hard ground, and Robert spent most of his time chopping firewood. Eli often hunted squirrels and other small game for dinner, using the hunting rifle their father had previously owned.  One morning, when Robert went outside in the early light to get more wood for the fire, he noticed the forest was very still and quiet. This was not entirely unusual, given that it was cold, and early in the day, but usually, there was some sort of sound of animals scuffling through the undergrowth, woodpeckers in the trees, or simply snow falling from the branches of trees onto the ground. Today, Robert heard nothing.  He