THREE DAYS…

They passed the windows and their shadows — hideously contorted by the flaws in the panes — made grotesque progress across the scarred back wall.

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Advent Stories #24

THE PIKE Carpers further down the canal were using fishmeal and pellets to try to tempt the doubles, but Lostock wasn’t interested in them. Carp might fight for longer, but they weren’t as aggressive as pike. He didn’t like the look of them, those bloated and gormless mouth-breathers. They turned his stomach. He’d talked to […]

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Advent Stories #21

THE MACHINE When he asked her, she said: ‘A car, wasn’t it? Or was it a bus?’ There was a little smear of mayonnaise on her mouth and her hair was scrunched like dead spiders’ legs at the back, where she had not been able to see it to comb in the mirror. Graham had […]

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Advent Stories #19

  STICKY EYE Conjunctivitis. Jesus. It sounded like some hellish offshoot of grammar. Welch had heard of it before, but hadn’t paid it much heed. He supposed that must be true of anybody who had never suffered from it. And suffer was the word. It felt as though some masochistic ghost was raking ragged nails […]

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Doctor Wh-aaargh!

Здравствуйте! So this is what my name looks like in Russian: Thanks to editor Stephen Jones, who recently gave me a copy of his 1997 anthology The Mammoth Book of Dracula (in which my story Bloodlines appears), I can now say I’ve been translated into Russian. The one thing he told me as he handed over […]

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