Welcome to my site. All stories © Ellis Reed. Illustrations by Marisa Bruno.
“I don’t know where Grandma came from, but it must’ve been somewhere, and wherever it was, it surely wasn’t here. She had the faintest trace of an accent, which seemed to recall the gloomy pines of the Black Forest, or maybe the foothills of the Carpathians…”
“Johnny was weird before he died. After the accident, well—it got pretty dark…”
“Water runs from his waterproof sleeves. His shapeless hat is almost a hood. I can see his face because he’s looking right at me. As he does, I hear (or think I hear) an echo of the playground chant: ‘Shallow Man, Shallow Man’—distant and shrill—almost lost in the sound of the rain…”
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