The Haunted Traveler Vol 1 Issue 2

weaselpress

Kick in Halloween with the latest issue of The Haunted Traveler. We opened up and looked for the strangest and the most horrific tales from this universe, bringing them here in a single collection for the readers to get a little twisted. The Haunted Traveler is a horror and science fiction literary anthology that releases twice a year. Published through Weasel Press, the anthology seeks to roam around with the stories you'll never forget. Those dark little tales that are sort of etched in everyone. We love the dark and twisted and we really want to be scared. Check out our website to see when we're open next. 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.

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slapped proudly, the smile on her face like an eyelash

on a balloon, ‘and I even went on the London

Eye!’ Bet it fucking squinted, thought Boyle, pushing

through the double doors and the clean air of the corridor,

away from the vinegary sweat and toxic farts of

the human puddings behind.

The itch was nigh on unbearable now, his

sphincter felt like it was glowing; the sun really does

shine out of my arse. He made it to the door of the

Gents, pondering as usual the ironic little stick man

above its handle, when Jameson came out.

‘Ah, Boyle, just the man,’ he smiled. ‘I see on

the roster you’re on toilet duties today. Cubicles Four

to Eight are completely blocked again. The one in

Five is a doozy. You’ll need the Stick.’ A sarcastic pat

on the shoulder then Jameson was gone, leaving Boyle

shuddering at what awaited him beyond the door.

Fuck it, he decided, no point in even trying to

unblock them until the Fatties had left. Let them crap

on top of it. There was little point in doing the job

twice. He gave his ass a surreptitious scratch, jamming

a bony digit as far as he could through the crease of

his heavy trousers.

‘I didn’t know you were getting married.’ The

voice was as svelte and sexy as its owner; Sandra the

secretary.

He turned too quickly, hoping he wasn’t blushing.

‘What? I’m not…What do you mean?’

She smiled a crotch tightening smile. ‘I saw

you picking your ring.’

Boyle felt his face burn. ‘It’s all those blimps

in there…They make my skin crawl.’

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