By Stephen Owen
Read by Ian Stuart
“I’m Mr. Sinclair.” The smiling old man introduced himself. “Not too early, am I?”
“Whatever you’re selling, I ain’t interested,” said the man, ignoring Sinclair’s offer of a handshake. He was taller than Sinclair by a couple of inches, probably in his mid-forties, with cropped blond-grey hair and a permanent frown etched between tired-looking eyes.
“Didn’t they tell you?” said Sinclair, studying a piece of paper in his hand, then checking the brass door number. “I’ve come to look round your house.”
“No-one said nothing.”
“It is still for sale, isn’t it?”
“Oh sure, just wasn’t expecting…”
“Of course, I can always come back another time,” said the old man. He frowned and scratched his chin. “That would be rather inconvenient, though. I’ve come all the way from Oxford. Traffic was an absolute nightmare.”
Happy Halloween!
Standard Podcast [32:12m]:
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By Leah Bobet
Read by The Word Whore
Sound design and score by Lee M. Bartow (featuring music by love is nothing. and Navicon Torture Technologies). Recorded and constructed at Leechnest Breeding Facilities Summer-Autumn 2008.
The house off Weathervane Street came old, but not
haunted.
It came with bright red brick walls on the outside,
cherry-paneled floors on the inside, plaster that
weeps moisture in the summer that plinks into a
hundred dented pots. It came with cats that drink the
water, wander in and out of the house, vanish into the
weedy yard at dusk. It came old and weeping, rafters
twisted, foundation long settled and scented with
earth.
Isabelle made it haunted, and so she still lives in
the house.
This week’s episode sponsored by Audible.com, who has extended their generous offer of a free audiobook download of your choice from their selection of over 40,000 titles.
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By Florence Ann Marlowe
Read by Damaris Mannering
“It’s going on three weeks, now.”
“Mmm-hmmm. And there’s no chance of you being pregnant?”
“Oh, no!” Nancy shook her head. “I haven’t even been with a guy in a long time.”
“Good.” Doctor Mason stood up, his eyes still glued to Nancy’s chart. He flashed her a quick smile. “One less thing to worry about.”
Nancy nodded. “So what could it be?”
The doctor seemed lost in thought. He pressed the butt end of his pen to his teeth. He then quickly shifted his seat, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs. Nancy suppressed an impatient sigh.
“I know exactly what it is,” he said finally.
Nancy was surprised. “Oh.”
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By John Medaille
Read by Alasdair Stuart
Okay.
I first discovered the existence of the human soul while examining the x-ray of a broken clavicle of an ugly boy named Peter Demetrios. Peter, who was the kind of kid I think of as a fly-torturing, spaghettio-bellied, dirty-fingernailed, nose-picking little crap of a little boy, had landed on a trampoline wrong and sustained a multiply displaced comminuted fracture of the collar bone.
This week’s episode sponsored by Audible.com, who has extended their generous offer of a free audiobook download of your choice from their selection of over 40,000 titles.
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By Michael Savastano
Read by Ben Phillips
A tiny slit in the yellow protective suit killed her.
Ridley Means slammed down the quarantine lever, locking the room that
would soon become Joella Henney’s tomb. Pale blue warning lights flashed.
Joella swerved toward the window and peered with panicked eyes. Her head
darted to each side, inspecting her body, arms outstretched.
She won’t see it. You never see the one that gets you.
She charged toward Ridley. The coiled air hose straightened behind
her. Her gloved hands laid flat against the glass. She mouthed something.
It looked like, “Please.”
Standard Podcast [24:05m]:
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