by Joe Mynhardt | Sep 4, 2026 | Short Fiction
The radiator at the Hotel Chelsea knocked like something was trying to get out. Sid lit a cigarette, leaned against the nightstand, staring at two mystery stains on the bedspread.The place was a dump.Nancy laughed from the bathroom. Not a happy sound. Her laughs never...
by Joe Mynhardt | Aug 17, 2026 | Short Fiction, Updates
Accession Number 1910.3.7 The passage you are about to read was discovered among the ruins of an abandoned cabin tucked among the prairie plains of South Dakota. The cabin was believed to have fallen into ruin due to a fire of unknown origins. Amongst further...
by Joe Mynhardt | Jun 10, 2026 | Short Fiction
The Kennebec runs through the belly of town like a black vein, carrying secrets and silt, chemicals and bones. Jeff and I follow it south, tromping along the Quarry Trail as we do every August before...
by Joe Mynhardt | May 22, 2026 | Short Fiction
Annie sweltered under an indifferent sun and mourned the languishing. At best, all she could offer was palliative care, her once-beautiful garden now a hospice. It didn’t seem fair, all those reports of strange storms in other cities, when her little patch of the...
by Joe Mynhardt | May 22, 2026 | Short Fiction
Tired of being unable to focus at work because the whispers in your head are telling you to burn the place down? Do the hooded entities in your dreams keep showing you glimpses of the unholy beyond every time you drift off? Afraid to wield anything sharper than a dull...
