As his hands mapped the ball’s rough surface, he could hear and smell the summers of long ago, those primary-colored days of abandon and laughter. He was aware of his tendency to romanticize his childhood; he knew that his remembered back yard freedom was a self-fabricated lie (she had told him as much in one [...]
As originally published in the September 1962 issue of Esquire magazine. Had you met this man just one year ago today, the surroundings would have been quite different. All necessary arrangements would have been made through a personal secretary and household staff. A limo would have been sent and one would spend the leisurely drive [...]
She would have attracted attention even if she were mortal. She stepped through the gate with her husband and the other passengers of Flight 191 from Laguardia though she seemed…apart; insulated from the crush of bodies as if an imperceptible bubble surrounded her modestly-attired form, purpose concealed in chance. Pure supernatural subtlety. Heads turned, male [...]
prepared by Dr. Sal Band, the American Society for Psychical Research Harvey, Illinois – September 13, 1988 – 4:45 AM. Our last night of a heretofore fruitless investigation of the house at 18 Mulgrave Street in Harvey, Illinois. Perhaps “fruitless” is a bit of an overstatement, we have detected the familiar drastic fluctuations in the [...]
“Well?” she prompted. “Well?” he returned. They both fidgeted, itching in their formal wear. She flashed a sudden, brilliant smile, an adrenaline-fueled grin, and he very nearly lost all of his pretended composure. Her eyes danced in the half light, color high in her cheeks. She started to unpin her corsage and he giggled — [...]
He took the stairs one at a time. Stepping up and bringing both feet together, he paused to catch his breath. It was slow going as he made the fourth-floor landing and he noted with grim familiarity and not a little trepidation the drum solo his heart was performing in his chest. With the swish [...]
Log of the Minnow; Jonas Grumby, Cptn. Sept. 26, 1964: Shipwrecked. What looked like a squall three days ago turned into a tropical storm. Was able to maintain some course tho instruments were useless. Hull smashed to hell on the reefs out from shore. When night comes should be able to figure out where we [...]
Prof. Roy Hinkley’s journal. 1/01/65 Happy New Year. I haven’t written in this journal in some time but I have two reasons for this, one mundane and the other quite extraordinary. Firstly, my ballpoint pen ran out of ink weeks ago and I have just now perfected the right blend of plant dye and pigment [...]
Log of the Minnow: Jonas Grumby, Cptn. Feb. 22, 1966 The thing is if I say ‘this needs to be done’ – whatever it is – then you better do it. I know Hinkley’s sneaking off into the jungle to build something. Its bound to be a raft. Whatever. He can chop down every last [...]
Log of the Minnow: Jonas Grumby, Cptn. Jan. 3, 1967 I talk to her when she comes. Tell her what she needs and how its going to be and she knows it. She never answers but I know shes listening. She lingers. It chose her for me – it wants her to stay. Where does [...]
Associated Press article October 17, 1978 SHIPWRECK SURVIVORS FOUND AFTER 14 YEARS (AP) – In a scenario worthy of author Daniel Dafoe, survivors of the ill-fated cruise of the SS Minnow were discovered on an uncharted Pacific island early Saturday evening by a deep-sea fishing crew. The Minnow, an island-hopping charter boat, left Honolulu Harbor [...]
Jonathan ran the fingers of his right hand over his uniform’s breast pocket to reassure himself that the glasses were still there. They were a new and absolutely necessary addition to his life, but he couldn’t get used to them. Ugly things. However, he couldn’t find it in his heart to complain when he considered [...]
10 May 1941 Flt. Lt. Michael Banks No. 141 Sqdn. RAF Station, Wittering Dearest Brother, There is a moment’s peace as this evening’s shelling seems well and truly done, and I will take advantage of the dimmed lamplight to put pen to paper and relate this most odd and utterly baffling coincidence, which I hope [...]
Clipping from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, August 7, 1999: LOCAL MAN, 63, SLAIN IN GANG ASSAULT Paramedics were called to Fonzarelli’s Garage at Alton and Kings Way at 11:50 last night in response to a neighbor’s frantic 911 call. Upon arrival they found Mr. Arthur Fonzarelli, 63, collapsed on the sidewalk severely beaten and in [...]
Compiled and Edited by Daniel Funderburke (MUFON) Editor’s note: What follows is an abridged transcript of a panel discussion which occurred on July 1st, 1990 at the Pensacola Hilton Hotel in Pensacola, Florida as part of the Mutual UFO Network’s Annual Symposium. MUFON’s symposium theme that year was “UFOs: The Impact of E.T. Contact upon [...]
“Ooohh, well now that is surprising,” the old man said as he swept a comb through the slick hair of the customer seated in one of the shop’s creaking barber chairs, “I can’t believe you wouldn’t have heard the story yet. It’s a – a real doozy, that’s for sure.” Without waiting for a go-ahead [...]
With its familiar click-CHUNK the answering machine picked up the incoming call he’d chosen to ignore. After his outgoing message and accompanying beep came a voice – a very nice female voice, but unfamiliar. “Jim?” she cooed in such a pleasing way that he nearly rose to take up the phone, but he waited. “Jim [...]
The guys he worked with called it “the blip,” a side effect of being glued to the screens of an ATC system for twelve hours a day. After tracking half a day’s worth of incoming and outgoing flights – not planeloads of people with families waiting for them, but Rorschach pixels of radar bounceback on [...]
I look at their faces and I pity them and I envy them and I know more than anything that I can’t be one of them. Not anymore. Still, I can wait in line with the best of them. It’s a skill like any other. Like whistling or making macaroni and cheese or designing a [...]
He never told Father Cleary to go fuck himself and this was, for the majority of his life, one of his top two greatest regrets – the other being a hankering for smothered pork chops one summer night in ’38, but we’ll get to that in due course. Butch’s restraint in regards to the old [...]
Excerpt from Reid’s journals: “August 13, 1875. Reina de Los Angeles seems little different from all of these other California pueblos. Pretty, dry, and old. Hardly likely the site of such near-mythical exploits as I have heard whispered across the plains, and with worse cantinas than San Diego. My brother tells me I do not [...]
The good boys and girls of his squad had expressed their condolences for his drawing the short straw shift-wise. Doubling up Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, that’s tough, they all said and he had to smile at the memory of that. Everybody’s done it at some point, they consoled, they knew what it was like. [...]
by Velma Dinkley Originally serialized in the August ~November 1995 issues of Vanity Fair magazine It’s one of those days where I hate both Smith and Corona. Though they produce fine products for those of us who so unwisely decided we had something to say and needed tools with which to say [...]
