She knelt by her husband’s body, crying, staring at his decapitated head several feet away, and wondered just what kind of monster could do something like this. Then she pulled the wooden stake from his heart and went to find the slayer who had done this.

Jerry always wondered what would go through his head right before he died. Human teeth was not one of the things he’d thought of.

For the month of October, I will try to post a Micro Horror story each day, each one around two sentences long. Stay tuned for the whole month!

Oct. 1:

Enid had always said to her children, “Why as often as you call, I could have been dead for a week and eaten by the cats.” Now, as she lay at the bottom of the stairs, her leg twisted under her, she looked up at the dozen yellow eyes staring down at her and realized she had been wrong: they weren’t going to wait until she was dead.

I had a fun weekend at the Comic Expo at the Post Mortem Press booth. Took a few pictures as well and had Ian Zierling sign my Sharknado 2 chainsaw. 

Lavinia Collins, author of the Guinevere Trilogy, has posted a review of King of Ages on her blog.

A brief quote from it:

“For me, personally, the standout story was P. Andrew Miller’s ‘If This Grail be Holy’ which reimagines Arthur in the oval office.”

You can read the whole review here and check out her website.

It’s always fun to see what computer generated translations will come up with. I give the example below.

Riverfest is an annual Cincinnati celebration of the end of summer with a half hour long fireworks show on the Ohio River between Ohio and Kentucky. For years, my good friend Danny Miller and I would attend a fireworks party at one of his friend’s house for food, fun, and a great view of the fireworks. Danny died several years ago and I stopped going to that party. However, I still go to the fireworks on occasion, usually with my current exchange student. It’s always a pleasant reminder of my friend and I’m glad I can also share it with my host son.

Here is the poem I wrote for Danny’s memorial service.

Courage Teacher

What thoughts I have of you today, Danny Miller.

I need not shop for images, my memories supply them all.

I see you walking across the campus, greeting almost everyone

With hugs and handshakes.  I see you in Landrum, at the bulletin board,

Holding an article or alumni note with one hand, stapler wielded in the other.

I hear your voice in the hallways, asking students how they are

And shouting words out while we play the online game in the rare breaks you took.

I see you in London, walking silent around Stonehenge, joking with students

On the tube, sitting in the train to Oxford, grading a handful of papers

With our students scattered around us.  I hear you call out to the group and make

Them pose for pictures, you the only one still using film in this digital age.

I know which way your beard is pointed, what you have shown me.

I call you friend and remember the annual fireworks picnic and our brunch

And Christmas concert ritual.  I call you father, and remember how three students

in two weeks once told you they had your son for class.

I gave you a father’s day card that summer but from then on

you said we were the Miller brothers from English.

I call you courage teacher, for you helped me to come out, to be gay and proud.

You showed me that I could be who I was and that it was okay.

I need not ask what America you had or what choice you will make once you reach Hades’ realm.

When Charon quits poling his ferry and you step out upon the shores of Lethe,

that river of forgetfulness, you will say to Queen Persephone, “No, thank you,”

to the cup she offers, for you, you have a life worth remembering.

And then you will turn To the spirit standing next to you, put out your ethereal hand, and say

“Hi, I’m Danny Miller, where are you from?”

Hi all,

I thought I would share a a review on Goodreads about the anthology I am in and in particular my story. 🙂

“If This Grail Be Holy (P. Andrew Miller): I was loving this story even before I realized it was going to be about Arthur falling in love/starting a relationship with Lancelot. The idea of Arthur as a politician is one of my favourite ideas about a modern day Arthur and the plot twist was amazing and unexpected. I particularly loved Merlin here as he was rutheless and desperately trying to help Arthur get to his destiny and I liked how this story showed a bit what also happen in some of the future stories (at least in my opinion): that Arthur is a free man/woman and doesn’t live just for his destiny even if he/she often ends up reaching it. In my mind he did here too, telling the truth. Absolutely delightful.”

You can read the whole review here.

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This past week had two very important days: National Black Cat Day and National Bad Poetry Day. Of course, the only logical thing to do was to combine the two.

An Ode to My Black Cats

An ode to my black cats three,

on the floor, they do not pee.

The youngest is Hades

who likes to abduct ladies.

The Oldest is Hector

Who’s sweet as, um, . . . nectar.

In the middle is Hermes,

He’s been fixed so he has no spermies.

Hmmm, I guess to celebrate them in rhyme ,

I should have named them Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.