On our next installment of Free eBook Fridays, we have a short collection of short stories, “Dollar Tales From the Morbid Museum: Flash Fiction.” I self-published this collection on June 30, 2018 as an eBook. Today only, until midnight, the eBook is available for a free download. Once a month I offer one of my eBooks for free in the hopes that those who download it will read it and write a review on either Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are not mandatory, but an honest review will help promote my works and are greatly appreciated. Get your free copy before the promotion ends. Download Here.
The purpose of the Dollar Tales collection is to build up the anticipation for the full paperback collection The Morbid Museum. I publish a couple of stories as an eBook for a dollar and get feedback on the stories. I also have a few stories published in online magazines which are included in the paperback edition. This process has helped me outline and figure out exactly how I want to present all these stories in one collection. Not simply a collection of stories with a similar theme but a story within a story. That’s why I created the idea of the Morbid Museum.
The Morbid Museum is curated by Siris Grim who holds a fascination with death; the prevailing theme of the Morbid Museum. He acts as a kind of narrator between the exhibits and each exhibit has a number of stories. This is a nice little preview of the overall collection. The full book is available in paperback and kindle. Enjoy your free copy.
Visitors to the Morbid Museum seek the dark and twisted corners of the world. They are both terrified and intrigued by the unknown. Tales of killers, monsters, and madmen are curated by the Master of Death, Mr. Siris Grim. Mr. Grim collects the darkness that everyone attempts to hide and displays it within the corridors of his gruesome gallery. Who will be next to purchase a ticket and walk the halls of the Morbid Museum?
I discovered true happiness When I was unemployed. I always worried about money, About food, About bills, But not much else. It was almost freedom.
I spent my time Bouncing between libraries, Coffee shops, Or quiet outdoor patios. I would write. I would read. I would revise and rewrite.
Living the dream.
I always felt Everything happened for a reason. It was a rough patch, This unemployment. It lasted Too long For my comfort.
It was necessary –
I had to Live my passion, If only for a moment. I glimpsed at my future. My beautiful future. A homeless Starving Writer.
What a dream I have For myself. I’ll fill it with Rejection letters, Unfinished stories And drafts, Lists of ideas For stories and poems, And the thoughts Of a lunatic mind With no hope Of recovery Or redemption.
Such is the life of A writer.
There’s never enough paper For the whirlwind of thoughts The mind endures.
Too many thoughts Forgotten. Never enough time to write them Unless You’re unemployed.
February 13, 2016
They told me There was a problem On the dancefloor. I saw nothing. I knew nothing. A regular customer Pointed at someone. I asked to talk outside. He said, “No!” He argued with me. He wanted to fight. I asked his friends To get him outside. They argued with me. If I forced him out, This would become a brawl. Someone got in his face. I told them to back off. The guy and his friends left. I took the person who Got in the guy’s face To the back gate. Their behavior was the problem. They called me Transphobic, And said there was a hate crime. I told them to call the police. The next day, they boycotted the bar. They said I kicked them out, But listened to the Douchebag straight guy’s story. They said our bar and The macho security Hated trans people. They never spoke to Us or came back. They don’t know The douchebag straight guy Tried to fight me. He never came back. Trans people still go to that bar.