The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1
Welcome to the first issue of The Haunted Traveler; a roaming anthology seeking to collect the strange and the wild stories that we all carry. Those words hidden in the deep dark that linger around. Weasel Press is proud to have released this first collection of material and is excited to do more anthologies in the future. The Haunted Traveler is a non-profit, Horror and Science Fiction anthology that accepts a wide variety of art media such as photography, short fiction, creative non-fiction, digital artwork and more. Our anthology publishes twice a year. To find out more information about our submission process, please review our submission guidelines. Our first issue was released on March 28, 2014 and we couldn’t be more excited to feature the explosive talent that has been submitted to us. Our idea is to have an anthology roaming around parts of the world with a collection of frightening and strange stories; a mysterious anthology with a collection of ghosts.
Welcome to the first issue of The Haunted Traveler; a roaming anthology seeking to collect the strange and the wild stories that we all carry. Those words hidden in the deep dark that linger around. Weasel Press is proud to have released this first collection of material and is excited to do more anthologies in the future. The Haunted Traveler is a non-profit, Horror and Science Fiction anthology that accepts a wide variety of art media such as photography, short fiction, creative non-fiction, digital artwork and more. Our anthology publishes twice a year. To find out more information about our submission process, please review our submission guidelines. Our first issue was released on March 28, 2014 and we couldn’t be more excited to feature the explosive talent that has been submitted to us. Our idea is to have an anthology roaming around parts of the world with a collection of frightening and strange stories; a mysterious anthology with a collection of ghosts.
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87<br />
What was I Thinking?<br />
Mike Sheedy<br />
It was dark and Grady felt as if he were floating on a cloud.<br />
A cloud of smoke? He thought he smelled something burning.<br />
He worried that there might be a fire nearby, but before<br />
he could look around he began to fall. <strong>The</strong> descent was slow<br />
at first, as he moved through the darkness, but then he fell<br />
faster, through gray, and faster, through white, and then he<br />
stopped with a jar.<br />
He blinked and saw that he was on his side on a tile floor.<br />
A harsh light came from above. <strong>The</strong> floor looked familiar but<br />
it was covered with...what was that? Granola and jelly?<br />
He rolled his eyes and saw that his body was backed up<br />
against a wall. His bathroom wall. He tried to push away<br />
from it but couldn’t move. That was odd. He couldn’t move,<br />
and he couldn’t feel his body.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n he noticed his pistol under the bathtub. He remembered<br />
putting the barrel in his mouth and pulling the trigger<br />
because... Why? He couldn’t remember why he’d shot himself.<br />
He rolled his eyes up as far as he could and saw that the<br />
wall above the commode was splattered with blood, hair and<br />
chunks. So it wasn’t granola on the floor, it was pieces of his<br />
head. A bit of what looked like his brain was just a few inches<br />
from his nose, and he wondered if it remembered why he<br />
shot himself. Why the hell would he do something like that?<br />
A minute or maybe an hour later the door swung open,
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