Though The Witches Are All Hung

June 26th, 1977 The red brick obscenity rose up seven stories against the feverish New York City skyline. Dilapidation was the apartment’s principle character, though beneath the grime and squalor a strange dignity remained; hinting at the structure’s queer tenacity, its utter unwillingness to yield wholly to the ravages of time. Built in the style … Continue reading Though The Witches Are All Hung

The Rat-Man of Yellowdale Industrial

He was a singularly odd shaped man, reminiscent of a sort of Innsmouth type but rodentlike rather than piscine. His shoulders were grotesquely rounded, in the manner of a quadruped almost, like an otter or squirrel, his short arms projected forward and down, no hint of the Germanic squareness one considers the norm. His spine … Continue reading The Rat-Man of Yellowdale Industrial

Palm Sunday

“Who’s the exorcist for the archdiocese?” “Silva.” “Yeah. When’s he coming?” “He can’t.” “Then who’d you ask?” “Sacred Brotherhood of Francis Borgia.” “Borgia? He’ll be lucky to keep his intestines.” Maldonado stood up and went over to the table. It was spread with sweetbread, egg tarts, queijadas, and a jar of coffee milk. “I’m about … Continue reading Palm Sunday