Sometimes grief sneaks up on you and hunts you down.
Sometimes it walks right up and punches you.
Holes in the
Somewhere
by Richard R. Brown
Genre: Speculative Fiction, Horror Stories
Holes In The Somewhere is a collection of short works,
anchored by a personal memoir of the author’s own experience with grief and
loss after the passing of his father from cancer, by speculative fiction author
Richard R. Brown.
A single mother encounters insanity in the worst possible
person; an estranged parent loses his reunited family to a mysterious bathroom
wall; a group of strangers come together to fight a fungal pandemic; college
students prepare for the extinction of the Sun… these are a few of the
challenges faced by the desperate characters in Holes In The Somewhere. The
choices they make, the dilemmas they wrestle with, all have very supernatural
consequences, but are felt with very human emotions.
These stories will tug at strings your heart thought were
too well-hidden for anyone to know about, and cause the mind to probe the gray
areas between wrong and right. Between normal and paranormal. Behind what’s
real and only to the side of what’s unreal. A perfect mix of quick, unsettling
reads, and longer, heart-wrenching escapes.
What readers
are saying:
“The debut is speculative fiction in form: weird,
unsettling, occasionally cosmic. But it reads less like a genre exercise than
like grief that has been given permission to take unusual shapes.” –
Justine Castellon, Author/Reviewer
“I guarantee there is a ‘gotcha’ story in there for
just about anybody, and if you don’t find at least one that bothers you just as
you’re about to fall asleep, you’re made of sterner stuff than I am.” –
Kenneth Crist, editor-in-chief, Black Petals Magazine
“These stories are weird and creepy and heart-wrenching
in all the best ways. If you enjoy fiction that makes you question everything
and wrecks you emotionally, this is for you!” – Valerie S., 5 star Amazon
Review
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Excerpt from ‘A Hole In The Somewhere’, a story in ‘Holes In
The Somewhere’
When he hung up, he saw the answer to
his problem of Tony’s dead body. He picked Tony up and wrestled him into the
wall where the blurred patch was. Pieces seemed to fall off into the wall, but
that just made Tony easier to handle. He just had time to change into a clean
shirt and slide the gun back under the couch before there came a soft knock on
his door.
Jack wiped sweat from his forehead and
opened the door. Before him stood the same little girl who held his hand twenty
years ago and asked him, “Why, Daddy?” about absolutely everything. Only now
she had green eyes when she used to have brown eyes.
“Mommy says you’re my grandpa,” she
said to him now. “Why is your door all bubbly and brown, Grandpa?”
Jack looked up and past his
granddaughter at Mary, who was smiling anxiously at both of them.
“Hi, Daddy,” was all she said. It was
enough.
Jack burst into tears, picked his
granddaughter up in his left arm, and trotted down the steps to embrace his
daughter with his right arm. They hugged for several moments before a muffled,
“Why are you crying, Grandpa?” came from his shoulder.
Jack laughed, and put her down on the
ground again. “I’m crying because I’m so happy to meet you!” he said.
“Oh. My name’s Emily, but you can call
me Emmy. Why do you live by the train tracks, Grandpa?”
“Actually, Dad, I’m curious, too. This
address came up as ‘Condemned.’ How is it that you live here?”
Jack led them inside and told them his
story, forcing himself to be honest about his decisions and his reasons. Recent
events disappeared from his awareness as the last twenty years enveloped him.
He told them about his depression and anger from the divorce, and how losing
everything seduced him into giving up everything. He hadn’t wanted to try to
replace what he had lost because that would be admitting that he had lost it to
begin with. After a few minutes, Emmy wanted to explore, so Jack gave a tour
while he talked. It only took a minute.
In the bathroom, Mary shot him an
alarmed look when she saw the cracked mirror. “Oh! It was like that when I
found this place. I got a new one last month. I just forgot about hanging it
up.”
“Let’s do it now, Daddy. I don’t like
that crack, for some reason. It creeps me out.”
They hung the new mirror while Jack
entertained them with stories from his train-hopping days. Mary leaned the
cracked mirror against the wall below the new one, stood up, and proclaimed,
“Much better!”
Jack and Mary returned to the main
room. Mary told Jack about her short, failed marriage to Emmy’s father, her job
at CyberSolutions, and her academic career. “Where is Emmy?” Jack wondered
aloud.
“She was fascinated by that old
mirror, so I leaned it against the wall so she could look at it.”
Jack felt a moment of unease at this,
but had no ready explanation for it, so he let it go. “Are you hungry, kiddo?”
he asked Mary. “I’m sure Emmy probably is. Want to go to lunch?”
“Sure, but I’m pay-“Mary was
interrupted by a tremendous whipcrack coming from the bathroom.
The gun!, Jack thought, and leapt to his feet as
Mary called out, “Emmy? Emmy!” They both
ran into the bathroom, only to find it empty. There was nothing to hide behind,
but Mary made a close search of every corner, anyway, all the while calling her
daughter’s name, “Emmy! Emmeeee!”
Richard R. Brown is a legally-blind author of speculative
fiction, horror, and thrillers. He writes from experience, having lived through
paranormal events, alien attacks, and cosmic horrors — at least, in his mind
and in the books he listens to. He and his Guide Dog live in the Pacific Northwest.
Richard is between Guide Dogs at the moment as Edison retired last summer.
Edison was at Richard’s side through every story in his book. Richard has no
such guidance for his current novel, but will likely have one for editing help.
