This story is inspired by Mary Shelley, who you may know as the author of Frankenstein. After her husband Percy died from drowning at age 29, his heart couldn’t be cremated, likely from his having tuberculosis earlier in life. Mary took to carrying it around with her in a silk bag. Creepy huh? Well, read …
The plastic ghouls and rope nets, wired spiders in frozen creep, this cemetery of street, this house cobwebbed in gauze of pretend decay, and along front window, the letters of her name, inked and hung with care. One wants to read “Happy Halloween” there, but instead these letters, more ache, more memorial, renders whole house …
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