Manny had been comatose for more than three years before he told me about the trolley man. I wish he had kept his mouth shut.

On the north side of the bustling city lived a family named Snivers. They weren’t a large family, but they were a tight one. A pair of newlyweds. A beautiful baby girl.

They say that really good art sucks you in. I really hoped, especially in this case, that it wasn’t true.

The Moon was the first thing I saw when I opened my blurry eyes. It was enormous, the biggest I had ever seen it. It was a strong, yet unhealthy looking yellow color. Striking and, at the same time, vacant. The way that a cats eyes look right before you finish running the rest of it over beneath your truck tire.