Jeff Coleman's Blog: Jeff Coleman Writes, page 2
August 26, 2020
Tick, Tock
FlashMovie/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on April 16, 2019
Tick, tock.
The wall-mounted clock declared the passing of another second. With each stroke, Felicia imagined someone somewhere marking another tally in an invisible ledger, debiting some cosmic account. How much time that account had left, who could say? The thought that Death could visit her at any time terrified her, and she was determined to keep the mysterious figure at arm’s length for as long ...
August 19, 2020
Dorian’s Unfinished Work
Stokkete/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on April 9, 2019
Dorian’s fingers dashed across the keyboard—forward and back, like a concert pianist in the throes of a wild composition. The light from his laptop’s monitor lit up his face, making him pale like a ghost. And that was precisely what he would be soon enough, for Death was coming, and Death would brook no delay.
Words tumbled out of him, but none were the right words; like broken keys, not a single one fi...
August 12, 2020
Convict
Inked Pixels/ShutterstockThe man looked up one last time, the life draining from his body, and beheld his killer. His final thought before the darkness closed in was not of revenge or of anger, but of how his daughter would grow up without a father and how, in the absence of her already deceased mother, she would spend the remainder of her life as an orphan.
Katie, he thought as if he had the power to call her with his mind. Then consciousness tapered, and the man, defeated, plunged head-first ...
August 5, 2020
Not of This World
Image licensed by Shutterstock.Below a drab and dreary office, in a park, there stands a tree. A sprawling oak, gnarled and ancient, she lies in wait for one who is lost. She is patient and she is persistent, for she knows that someday, the one she searches for will hear her call and answer.
Above a verdant, sunlit park, in an office, there sits a woman. Driven and motivated, Diane excels at everything she does. But she is haunted and she is restless, for no matter how successful she becomes, s...
July 29, 2020
The Letter
RG-vc/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on March 27, 2019
Dear Sandra,
It is with great sadness that I pen this letter. I love you so much—I always have—and I wanted desperately to embrace the human side of my nature so I could share my life with you. But I’ve learned that I can’t change what I am, and I can’t continue to deny the part of myself that keeps me awake with its alien secrets long after you’ve fallen asleep at my side.
This morning, I made you breakf...
July 22, 2020
Witch’s Brew
Sean Locke Photography/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on March 19, 2019
Martha tipped her plate and a hillock of diced onions dropped into a tall aluminum pot. Steam rose up at once, and she grabbed a metal spoon and began to stir.
“If there’s no browning, there’s no flavor,” her father used to say, “but too much browning and you’ve spoiled the meal.”
Martha knew how important it was to get this dish right, so she sprinkled in some salt to bleed the onions an...
July 15, 2020
Safe Passage
Volkova/Shutterstock.comFrom the vantage point of a sheer rock cliff, Samantha stared into the void, the weight of an entire planet resting on her shoulders. She lifted her head, and in a deep baritone rumble, proclaimed, “I bear precious cargo and demand safe passage.”
The witch who hired her had warned her to be careful, that the world she carried would attract dangerous creatures who wished it harm, but there was no way Samantha could have prepared herself for this unique brand of terror.
Th...
July 8, 2020
White Noise
Joe Techapanupreeda/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on March 6, 2019.
Daniel sat at an outdoor table, sipped a Starbucks cappuccino, and watched the world unfold like a silent film. Deep, resonant sound waves plowed through his ears like an ocean, and while the world was usually a loud and discordant place, as long as he had his white noise—as long as he could stick a pair of buds in his ears and drive the outside sounds away—everything would be all right, eve...
July 1, 2020
Burden
drasa/Shutterstock.comThis post was originally published through Patreon on February 27, 2019.
I see them flitting through the shadows and I try not to be afraid. They don’t know that I can see them, that I track their every move, and they mustn’t catch on. So I avert my eyes, and from the corner of my eye, I watch, taking mental notes as they stalk the Earth, unseen to all except myself.
They’re phantoms, abstract projections of the dark. They move through our homes, through our places of busi...
June 24, 2020
The Door at the End of the Universe
Slava Gerj/Shutterstock.comWhen the door at the end of the universe came into view, the old man dropped to his knees and cried. How long had it been since he’d first set out in search of it? Across countless places and ages, he’d journeyed, and now, at long last, the door lay within reach, embedded in the side of a barren world-sized mountain.
The old man could feel the wind on his face, whipping the cracked and blistered skin that stretched over his ancient skull like parchment. At that moment...


