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by Springheel 3800 words, 1 comment, on Mar 11 10:41 PM 2007. In Dark, Death, Fantasy, Fiction, Horror, Other, Short story, Strange
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by Springheel 1700 words, 1 comment, on Sep 8 1:19 AM 2006
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It'd been days, but he was sure it was weeks, and he thought to himself:
"These past few weeks have felt like months," and then he continued his pained, limping walk. -
“…Are you going in?”
I’m thinking about it. I know I should be frightened to, but I'm not scared at all. I feel that I know every inch of this graveyard, which is impossible -
Daniel really just wanted it to be quiet. That's all he wanted out of the lot; the silence and solitude that was promised by the deep woods. So far, all the wooded lots he'd ta
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In those days, London was a stranger place. Most days we couldn’t tell where the ground ended and the sky began, for the fog had grown as thick and substantial as the clouds. N
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To sleep is divine relief from the scary waking world.
To be in Wonderland is to abandon the waking world.by Springheel 500 words, 1 comment, on Aug 5 5:10 PM 2005. In <200 lines -
http://allpoetry.com:2500/may05/published/The+Legend+of+Springheel+Jack+-+3
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He was a good boy. Everyone said so. His parents said so, and his teachers, and all of his many friends, and random people on the street would shout it as he walked by.
"Hey -
He was a poet of the highest order of poets, or so he'd say, if you could ask him.
Normally, a poet is only one who partakes in the craft of writing poetry. In his ca -
I just met a fight choreographer and stunt man from California. He showed me his stunt tape, and its amazing. He's looking to put together a screenplay, and he wants me to writ
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Ernie had been paid to watch the plot since he was but a wee lad, and he'd never done it sober. The place had always put him on edge, even now that it's many shadowed corners h
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The doctors could never figure out what had brought on Doloris's coma. Every couple of months, one of them would visit her for a re-diagnosis, but her file, each time, always s
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http://allpoetry.com:2500/march/published/The+Legend+of+Springheel+Jack
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"He's dead." The shadows whispered to one-another, a hissing rustle that passed through the dark underbrush of the forest like a strong breeze until the entire woods had heard
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No, I'm alright. I know I am old, but I am not among the elderly who believe the young to be somehow indebted to us. I'd not trouble you for food or water, or even a kind word.
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He was dreaming again, his mind drifting through the fogs of hazy unconsciousness. In his head, a hydraulic lid closed between him and the world over and over again. In his hea
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Yessum, them was some strange days on the road. Driving with Doc Hess was like being chased by a pack of wolves on a lame horse.
Actually, it was like being chased by Bigfoo -
A black jeep roared over the well-kept road; this black river of asphalt winding its way through the Montana woodlands. They'd passed a small town not too far back, followed by
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At some point, their people lost track of them. I think it happened at the pinnacle of the rule of Constantine, bolstered by the propaganda of Christianity. They looked down on
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I work in a haunted hotel.
The owner is a gruff man, and this is excusable because he's greek. Gruff and greek go together like escargot and minced shallots, which is what w -
I was dreaming.
He called to me from far off, his whispers soft against the grainy backdrop of screams from the room he guarded. I could feel the evil of the place; the dead -
He was dreaming again, his mind drifting through the fogs of hazy unconsciousness. In his head, a hydraulic lid closed between him and the world over and over again. In his hea
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