The Gentleman On The Luxury Liner

The gentleman on the luxury liner held the new-age stargazer crowd in rapture as he explained his methods of life-and-fare-evasion. A three-pronged metal fork precisely inserted into a rewired wall socket. They discovered a crispy-fried version of their host the next morning in his cabin. No one much commented – except on the new state of the menu (it had taken a dramatic turn for the better in the weeks following the host’s demise).

Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004

The Reality-Stricken Dentist

The reality-stricken dentist hitched to the next state over aboard an eighteen-wheeler. The driver’s name was Dave and he had a tattoo of a B-52 Bomber Broad on this right shoulder. Occasionally he would proffer a miniature decanter of supreme whisky to ‘help keep the internal fire burning.’ They arrived in the next state over a day later. The dentist had inadvertently left a patient strapped to the theatre bed behind. The patient awoke amidst much toothy pain and groggy from the anesthetic, to find the dentist’s operating rooms abandoned.

Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004

The Woolly Asbestos

The woolly asbestos gave off a warm glow that solidified in Frank’s lungs. He later went bald.

Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004

The Skeleton-Hot-Rod-Man

The skeleton-hot-rod-man was at once majesty and mystery. His face was fleshless and toothsome but his car was loud. A cacophony of golden tubing, rivets and steel. He drove me back in time to see a drive-in movie once and bought me a giant tub of creamy popcorn. I spilt some on the dash but he didn’t seem to mind. When he dropped me home along the blackened sea I had to regurgitate the kernels to correct the time-continuum we had crossed only hours before.

Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004