The first time I heard the name Mr. Pockets, I was folding laundry and only half listening. "He doesn't like it when you fold his shirt like that," my daughter said. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her room, arranging a tea party for exactly one visible guest. "He likes it folded in … Continue reading The Believer
Horror Fiction
The Weight of Silver
The trail went cold three miles outside of Ashby, and Lewis Hale was bleeding again. He pressed two fingers against the gash on his forearm — a hunting knife, close call, closer than he'd had in years — and kept moving through the pine forest at a pace that would have broken a younger man. … Continue reading The Weight of Silver
