*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from http://www.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/9542-Horror-in-Ordinary-Things.html
Horror/Scary: May 15, 2019 Issue [#9542]




 This week: Horror in Ordinary Things
  Edited by: W.D.Wilcox
                             More Newsletters By This Editor  

Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

A small town, a simple life, a birthday party gone horribly wrong.


Word from our sponsor

Certain situations demand dramatic music. Now you have it!
Get it for Apple iOS, Android or Kindle Fire.
Creative fun in the palm of your hand.


Letter from the editor

The Horror in Ordinary Things


"The Umbrella

An umbrella can separate us from the world outside, everything else is inconsequential.

Jeremy Strauss stormed through the rain, the umbrella acting as a cocoon against the constant pelting from the torrential downpour. And through the handle, he felt touched as if he had just received a divine revelation like the whispering one hears from a dark room and it scared the bejesus out of him. The umbrella had a life of its own, a purpose, a mission.

As he sloshed through the puddles, water soaked his suit pants up to the knees. For a businessman, this should have been the worst thing that could happen in the middle of a workday. But people have secrets. Some are even willing to die to keep them that way. Jeremy's secret was so incredible it would destroy anyone who discovered it. He was sure of that. The thought made him hurry all the more.

It was conceivable he would step out into oncoming traffic where he would meet his demise, but he didn't care, so determined was he to get to where he was going. It was conceivable he would stumble and slip sprawling upon the sidewalk like a drowned bug. It was also conceivable he would be too late, but for him that was totally unacceptable. He rushed on, not looking where he was going, but instead plowing ahead as if he were a farmer possessed with finishing his field.

People immediately stepped out of his way because it was obvious he was hell-bent to get to where he was going. They looked at him oddly because he acted oddly: where everyone hunkered down against the storm, Jeremy nearly ran headlong into it, impelled as if pressed for time, in haste to meet an unknown destiny. The time spired from forever to forever. In the tangled jungle of tall buildings ensconced with webs of electric wires and streetlamps dripping with rain, Jeremy finally saw the man.

He sat in the stoop of a closed and dilapidated store, the saturating rain drenching his torn and shabby clothes. Fingertips steepled toward the bridge of his nose, he half hid his face in a prayer clasp, as if the pounding rain did not provide enough concealment, as if he were whispering a confession into the private chapel of his cupped hands. When he saw Jeremy approaching he thought the sight would stop his heart, but such an easy end was not his fate.

Jeremy slowed his gait and approached the man, then stood over him. He could smell a rank stench, an acrid odor with a sickly sweet under-smell. He slightly gagged on it.

"I've found you," he said. The deadliness of his voice shocked him like a confrontation with a grisly murder.

The man looked up at him, rain puddling in his eye-sockets. "Yes," the man said, "I knew you would. I dreamt it."

Jeremy could feel every throb of his pulse distinctly in his temples, as if it were his mind that hammered out his life, not his heart. The beats were slow, too slow for the amount of apprehension he felt. He could not conceive what was happening to him. But each blow shook him as if the very structure of his brain were under assault. He handed him the umbrella. "Take this and go," he said, and then added, "Don't stop, and don't look back." Then he turned and slowly walked away, dripping wet, shoulders slumped, his burden released.

Now wonder lit the man's face. "I understand," was all he said.

An umbrella can separate us from the world outside, everything else is inconsequential.

The homeless man stormed through the rain, the umbrella acting as a cocoon against the constant pelting from the torrential downpour. And through the handle, he felt touched as if he had just received a divine revelation like the whispering one hears from a dark room and it scared the bejesus out of him. The umbrella had a life of its own, a purpose, a mission.




Until Next Time,



A new sig from 'undocked'




Editor's Picks

Tastes Like Chicken


 
STATIC
Ailurophobia  (13+)
Sometimes phobias are a good thing.
#2189893 by ForeverDreamer

 Because the Mirror Said So  (18+)
A fun house should be fun right?
#2188083 by S. E. Mabson

 
STATIC
Life a Stage (aka The Final Act)  (18+)
There within Detroit rests a concert hall with a dark history.
#2187353 by Dalimer Corwyn

 
STATIC
Kitty Litter  (E)
Penelope and Marmalade's anniversary
#2186767 by L.A. Grawitch

STATIC
The Ring of Lost Hope  (18+)
Written for SCREAMS!!!
#2182480 by IceSkating SugarCube

STATIC
Misguided Methods  (13+)
What Instincts drive these wooden monsters? SCREAMS!!! Entry. Prompt-Instinct.~999 Words.
#2186459 by Laurie Razor

 
STATIC
The Dust  (18+)
There are things that live in the desert, beautiful things . . . dead things.
#2187538 by W.D.Wilcox




 
Submit an item for consideration in this newsletter!
https://Writing.Com/main/newsletters/action/nli_form

Word from Writing.Com

Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter!
         https://Writing.Com/main/newsletters/action/nli_form

Don't forget to support our sponsor!
Dramatic Music App Plus for Apple iOS, Android or Kindle Fire.
Creative fun in the palm of your hand.


Ask & Answer

DEAD LETTERS


Editing is BLUE says:

Nothing is a sure thing but Death and Taxes.


FORUM
WEIRD TALES CONTEST  (18+)
A Contest Inspired by the Old Pulp Fiction Covers of Weird Tales Magazine
#2083492 by W.D.Wilcox


FORUM
The Dialogue 500  (18+)
Dialogues of 500 words or less.
#941862 by W.D.Wilcox




*Bullet* *Bullet* *Bullet* Don't Be Shy! Write Into This Newsletter! *Bullet* *Bullet* *Bullet*

This form allows you to submit an item on Writing.Com and feedback, comments or questions to the Writing.Com Newsletter Editors. In some cases, due to the volume of submissions we receive, please understand that all feedback and submissions may not be responded to or listed in a newsletter. Thank you, in advance, for any feedback you can provide!
Writing.Com Item ID To Highlight (Optional):

Send a comment or question to the editor!
Limited to 2,500 characters.
Removal Instructions

To stop receiving this newsletter, click here for your newsletter subscription list. Simply uncheck the box next to any newsletter(s) you wish to cancel and then click to "Submit Changes". You can edit your subscriptions at any time.


Printed from http://www.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/9542-Horror-in-Ordinary-Things.html