Hitchcock Would Be Pissed
By Archived Story
Posted in Voices | No Comments
Panicking through the fog of a dream, there is a frantic groan, “My god, the fear is nauseating.” The frigid aura of a dusty nightmare clings to a sea of sprinkling smoke over rusty blackness while the dark depths rise to the surface with a sick gleam in the eye, slinging mutilation and gore. Lightning cracks from the mystic horn of another time and place; you are the terror that permeates this modern moment. A latent smile sneaks around your cold and trembling mouth, troublingly satisfied. Perhaps this is the kind of frightful sensation we are all looking for …



