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  • Pete Mesling

Come, Saints and Sinners ... Step into the Fool's Fire!

Something in the middle distance. Much larger than a man. Shaking its cloven head back and forth on a hilltop, backlit by a full moon as it cavorts within a circle of flame. What is that in its maw? Oh dear Christ … it’s … it’s … Is it a child? No, not a child. My child. My book. A review copy of a collection of terrors yet to come! Did I write the book and offer it up to this strange god on the hill? I can’t remember. In fact, I don’t recall the title or any of the stories in it, only that they are frightening and touched by evil. I must have written them in a fugue state. I have to reread the book myself, get reacquainted with the contents. But do I dare? And how do I find another copy? I can’t risk wrenching the only advance copy from this creature’s fangs!


October 1 has come into my brain for some reason, bringing pain, as if branded there. All will become clear on October 1.


God help us all. I think I’m starting to remember …




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