A flick and whiz interrupted the tranquility as a man standing on the pier across the way cast a fishing rod, his dark silhouette set against the reddish-orange sunglow of the waning day. The baited hook struck the glassy, mirrored surface of the pond, sending ripples cascading outwards and causing a nearby goose and its three fuzzy goslings to ever so slightly bob like buoys. They were unbothered and kept paddling around the peninsula that opened up to a lagoon of flowering lily pads.
Author Archives: millerwiller
The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor – Part 3
If you haven’t read parts 1 or 2, read them first! I kneeled for what seemed like hours with Agatha’s sanguineous cries taunting me as they echoed all around. It sounded as if I were trapped in a tight cave rather than an endless white void. With this, the seeds of my madness were sown,Continue reading “The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor – Part 3”
The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor – Part 2
This time, it was undeniable; the sound was coming from the mirror. I approached and warily tugged on the canvas. It slid into a heap on the ground, revealing my reflected self in the impeccably clean mirror. I waved my hand, and my reflection followed. I made a goofy face, and my image dutifully followed suit, just as a mirror should. Only after a few more erratic motions did I realize that the reflection was moving ever so slightly slower than I, as if it were on a delay.
The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor – Part 1
I leaned against one of the pieces and accidentally knocked off its canvas covering, revealing a luxurious full-body mirror with ornate mahogany carvings around the edges. I instantly became transfixed by my reflection, unable to tear myself away. An eerie grin began to creep across my reflected face when, suddenly, Mrs. Waverly dashed across the room with surprising speed and threw the canvas like a cast net. For a brief moment, a visage of hopeless terror flashed across my face in the mirror.
Blog: “The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor”
I’ve been working on my new story, “The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor,” for almost a year now because my life lately has been fundamentally unstable in the best possible way. Emily and I ended our lease last August and left Atlanta to travel across 9 European countries in 13 weeks, seeking gloryContinue reading “Blog: “The Mirror in the Basement of Waverly Manor””
Short Story: “The Onion Boy”
The Onion Boy does not sleep, for night is the time he furtively toils, collecting and consuming dreams. His appetite is never satisfied. He moves on to the next sleeping victim with the prior still weighing freshly in his stomach — for he is sure they will be digested in time for his next meal.
Blog: “The Onion Boy”
I must have been twelve or thirteen when I first got a cell phone, and little did I know it would usher a brave new world of kaleidoscopic modern horrors into my life. No, I’m not talking about the nearly all-consuming screen addiction I’ve developed, as my phone has become more like an appendage rather than an appliance. That’s a topic for another day. Today, I’m talking about spooky chain text messages. You know, texts you’d get from a friend like, “Send this to ten friends or get visited tonight by the ghost of a precocious and murderous little girl!1!!1!!!!”
Announcement Re: “CAPTCHA”
420 words, ~1.5 minute read time. The accompanying short story is hyperlinked here. I have been reading an essay collection by E.B. White, and one quote has stuck with me: “I do feel a responsibility to society because of going into print: a writer has the duty to be good, not lousy; true, not false;Continue reading “Announcement Re: “CAPTCHA””
CAPTCHA
4,900 words, ~20-minute read time. The accompanying blog post is linked here. Bright red text flashed on the screen: “Fatal Error: Your password and/or CAPTCHA is incorrect.“ I gritted my teeth. My neck muscles tensed. An unhelpful pop-up appeared with this definition: “CAPTCHA stands for ‘Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and HumansContinue reading “CAPTCHA”
The Lonely Wolf
The first scant glimmers of the full moon seeped through the cloud coverage, and Max started to feel the transformation begin its infernal machinations inside him. He took a deep breath and stood, ready to change, when he heard a beautiful, lilting voice beckon from behind him.
Millerwiller 