The Peddler Man, The Peddler Man Could Bring You Delights or an Old Tin Can There Will Be Nothing to Lack When the Peddler Man Opens His Sack My grandfather was the first to encounter The Peddler Man.Β  He would often tell us stories of sitting on his porch,...

646 – Kingdom of Silla Queen Seondeok stood at her window and watched the night sky while considering the betrayal of Kim Bidam, chairman of the council of nobles. β€œEmperor Taizong is behind this! I know it!” Gim Chun-Chu, her normally composed diplomatic nephew, yelled while angrily...

Part I I have never been a superstitious man,Β and can honestly say that I do not believe in vampires, ghouls, demons, or anything else that those youngsters with their vivid imaginations and smartphones like to dream up. But there is one thing that happened a very...

β€œNo one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heavenβ€”the Son of Man.” John 3:13 CHAPTER 1 Devon, England. October 1991 The Duke’s Head pub had been derelict for two years now; boarded up, condemned; but no one missed it. It had never been a...

His name was Connor. Dustin Connor, but he never went by that name. Some called him Con or Connor. I called him Mr. Connor. Mr. Connor was the bravest and most imposing man that I and many have ever known. He stood well over six feet...

James was an eight-year-old boy with the heart of a dog and the energy of a hummingbird. His mother died when he was only five, so he lived with his grandmother, Babcia. They were very poor: their house was a tiny, dilapidated thing, with a...

The carpet smells of decay and mud as I flatten my face against the floor in an attempt to hide under our queen-sized bed. An incessant banging at the door resonates through my brain, feeling like I’m being impaled with an iron spike. Each knock slams...

The road is a light brown path of dirt that stretches up and down the shallow hills, running straight from end to end before becoming serpentine at its eastern end where it meets the main highway. Blades of grass struggle to break through but soon...

My name is Mortimer Lipschitz. I know the name itself suggests otherwise, but I shit you not. That's really my name. I used to wish it wasn't. On all that's holy, I wished it wasn't. But I suppose that the name was never really the...

Jack Mckay huddled in the cold midnight street with a pale green sleeping bag encasing his lower half. Spindled trails of light reflected off the gleaming roads from damp lampposts. But the cold wasn’t what gave Jack his nightly jittersβ€”not by a long shot. The...

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