Posts By: Edwin Crowe

My Dad Was a Mortician

I remember a friend of mine tell me that thunder was clouds bumping together, he was proud when he told me that; he was also twenty-six. It’s amazing what we believe when told at such a young age.

When I was thirteen, my dad said I was old enough to help him out. My dad was a mortician.

I remembered the sleepless nights in the week leading up to it. The nightmares were horrific, and they never stopped. Before I didn’t know exactly what he did, but I knew it involved dead bodies. I cried, but he said I was a man now, and this was something a man does, I believed him. Read more »

Supply and Demand

It was the day the pigs were going to slaughter, always a somber affair. It’s hard not to get attached to the little buggers. They may look all the same to the untrained eye, but to someone who sees them everyday, each are unique with their own personality. I was going to miss them. Read more »

I am Lucid

I was 12 when I realised I could control my dreams; it was amazing. The first thing I did was fly. A superman’s fist to the sky and I was off. I’d feel the acceleration, the wind against my face, I’d look down at my home town and dive; it was incredible. Read more »

Addiction: A Confession

I sat in my car, and I watched. I had succumbed to the urge. I had listened to that voice in my head for hours, days, years, and again, I found myself stalking. I admit it, I felt excited. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care; within the hour I’d be sated and the voice would retreat again, allow me to feel normal. Read more »

Bless me Father, for I Have Sinned

The door to the confessional opened, the light burned my eyes and I squinted. I heard the person sit, and I waited.

“What have you come to confess, my child,” I said, listening to the heavy breathing in the booth next to me.

“It’s okay, you are among God now.”

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” the man’s voice announced. Read more »


As he lay on the wet grass, he woke up confused. Getting his bearings, he rose to his feet. He sweated, he looked nervous; In a panicked state he ran.

He pushed himself through the crowds that lined the main streets, turning left and right, appearing guided, knowing where his destination was. Read more »

A Stranger in a Nightclub

I never meant to stay out all night; it was supposed to be an early night. Just us girls, down the local for a couple of drinks to send me off halfway around the world to start the next chapter of my life. But it didn’t end at 10:30pm when it was supposed to. One drink turned into two, turned into five. Read more »

Invisible Friend

I tossed and turned in bed trying to sleep. I heard mummers from the floor below. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before getting up.

“What is it, honey?” My wife asked.

“I think I can hear Scott talking in his bedroom again,” I responded. Read more »

The Turing Test

I waited for what seemed like hours before I was called in.

“Come on in, Mr Johnson,” the man in the immaculately ironed suit announced.

I was pushed into the over-bright office; a computer sat, waiting for me. Read more »

OCD: Therapy

“How did you get on with the CBT I assigned you last week?” the therapist asked.

“Good,” I replied nervously, knowing it didn’t help shit. I hugged my arms and rubbed them to ground myself.

Read more »

A Fateful Encounter

I saw the outline of a gun tucked under his shirt, signifying he was not as innocent as he looked.

“Come inside and have a sit down, I’m sure whatever’s happened can be worked out. What do you say, son?”

The young man stopped as he thought about my offer before letting go and walking past me into the house.

I sat the cup of coffee down in front of him.

“So boy, do you have a name?”


iquid bubbled around the brain as electricity charged the wires connecting to it.


We watched the screen in anticipation.
“Lieutenant, hit it again. ”

I pressed the charge button again, my jaw dropping as words began to appear on the computer screen.”

On Torchure

Drowning; watching water soak into the fibers of a soft cloth, stuffed violently into a man’s mouth, is memorizing. Something so simple, anybody can do it, but the panic it generates is unbelievable. Don’t try this yourself, I’m a professional, just take my word.


“Ah, Ms Parsons, is it?” the man in the suit asked as he referred to his notes.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk.