I heard it before I saw it, a jingling of bells like the soundtrack to a corny Christmas movie. Then out of the mist rolled a small carriage, round and bright as a converted pumpkin. Florescent ...  [+]

Every time I walked by the house it haunted me. The run-down brick house at the top of a hill, window frames rotting, trim crusted with flaked paint. It showed no evidence of life, no evidence of ...  [+]

I picked the rod tip up and swung it back to eleven o'clock, then snapped my wrist. The line flew out over the water, unfurling. At its maximum length, it settled on the water's surface with hardly a ...  [+]