Written by Aletheia Fitch The Castle             He barred the windows and double checked the tripwire. Still it came in, undetected, through the roof. It slipped through the shingles, crawling with what could have been a million legs if it weren’t so grotesquely large.             The castle was many-storied, with

What was your favorite dream as a kid? Flying dreams? Candyland dreams? Dreams in which you saw old friends, old pets, a joyful reunion where nothing else mattered? Dreams that made you powerful, a hero in a story? One of my favorite dreams was one I only had once. And

Blood poured from his hand. The wrench slammed against the metal as Bruce cursed; it had slipped, causing his knuckles to smash against the cutter-bar. Wiping his forehead, he stepped back from his broken-down combine, his faded jeans scraping the wheat stubble as he walked. Bruce clenched his jaw. It

Lechon, the Tale of the Suckling Pig A greedy and mischievous pig was trotting through the thick Philippine jungle. Suddenly, he came across a child holding an apple. “Give me that apple,” he told the child, “I’m starving.” When the child refused, the pig attacked and injured him, stole his

And here is a refuge, a room filled with weapons. Books spill over the shelves, patient in their want to be noticed. Caressing these old spines, walking among stained pages, I find where I belong. Depart from reality for a time. Entering all these worlds and other lives, why on

June   Forty Fort was about as alive as roadkill. Over 600 people lived there, but no one ever understood why. An ancient cemetery haunted the lifeless town with rusty, iron gates and thousands of moss-covered tombstones. The sport fields covered almost as much land as the cemetery, but were

After midnight, I can’t sleep. Even if I go to bed at nine, I still wake up at zero AM sharp and just can’t go back to sleep. I’ve no idea why. Whenever I’m about to turn the lights out, I always make sure that everything’s just right: my book