The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

weaselpress

After a brief hiatus, The Haunted Traveler is back to bring you some of the best horror out there. Open up and tread with caution, the next scare is just a page flip away.

125 watts per bulb.

Rectangular boxes. Various sizes. Brand names

printed in bold, primary letters. Soft yellow refulgent

fanning out between misshapen layers of corrugated

cardboard, spilling into a sinking horizon and slicing

through dust filled air. Sunglasses from the pocket of

my grey hoodie. Protection—eyes scorched and the

blinding perdition. Customers shuffle about. Shopping

carts with spinning, squeaky wheels scrape along the

floor, plastic baskets for smaller items.

Passing judgments.

Dr. Sawyer by my side, retro in her navy-blue pants

suit and rimless reading glasses, instructing me to utilize

the deep breathing techniques we’ve practiced.

Positive coping skills.

“Get perky, ‘Manda. You gonna need to pluck your

daddy’s wants from the top rack, ‘cause that’s where

they hide the best ones.” Raven pulls the headphones

from around her shaved head. “C’mon girl, rise up high

up on those steel toes.”

I give her the finger. (She knows dropping the “A”

pisses me right off the rails.)

Shaytan’s turn to speak. He removes the menthol

from between his coffee stained teeth and blows blue

smoke rings. “Absolutely not, the best brands pay out

the nose to stare at you dead center.”

My response is, “You can’t smoke in here, jack-ass.”

Dr. Sawyer’s in-lobby-pre-session check list: 7 –

Please Rate from 0 to 10 (10 being the best) FOCUS

and CONCENTRATION.

“Incandescent.”

“Halogen.”

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