Archive for Stories

PseudoPod 608 – A Visit to the Catacombs of Via Altamonvecchi

Show Notes

Shawn Garrett provided the soundbed production on this episode, which he would like to dedicate to the Australian band Soma and Richard Shaver.


A Visit to the Catacombs

By J. Weintraub


Welcome to the catacombs of via Altamontivecchi, the grandest and one of the most ancient in the world. I will be your guide for this special pilgrim’s tour in the English language. If you have booked in advance, you will find the number 34 stamped on your ticket. If you have not booked in advance, you have no business being here. Please return tomorrow in the morning when there will be more tours for you in several languages.

For those of you who have booked in advance, please step inside. (Continue Reading…)

PseudoPod 607: Take A Walk In The Night, My Love


Take a Walk in the Night, My Love

by Damien Angelica Walters


He is a good man. Remember that. He is a good man.

(Continue Reading…)

PseudoPod 606: The Fainting Game

Show Notes

“This story is partially autobiographical. My older cousins did, in fact, teach me how to induce a fainting spell, and I did, in fact, have some kind of seizure. Do not try this at home, in the woods, or anywhere else.”


The Fainting Game

by Nino Cipri


I held my arm out the window of the car and pretended it was a long sword slicing through the landscape. This was a game I always played on long car rides, holding my hand flat and my fingers rigid. The wind pushed the sword up, and I chopped through the tops of trees and telephone poles. Lower and I scythed through farmhouse attics and distant silos. I tried to control the sword by changing the angle of my hand, so I could hop over other cars without slicing their passengers in half. But sometimes, the wind forced my hand lower, and I’d apologize under my breath to the motorcyclist or hitchhiker I’d beheaded. (Continue Reading…)

PseudoPod 605: The Town Manager


The Town Manager

by Thomas Ligotti


One gray morning not long before the onset of winter, some troubling news swiftly travelled among us: the town manager was not in his office and seemed nowhere to be found. We allowed this situation, or apparent situation, to remain tentative for as long as we could. This
was simply how we had handled such developments in the past.

It was Carnes, the man who operated the trolley which ran up and down Main Street, who initially recognized the possibility that the town manager was no longer with us. He was the first one who noticed, as he was walking from his house at one end of town to the trolley station at the other end, that the dim lamp which had always remained switched on inside the town manager’s office was now off.