I don’t suppose it’s any wonder that I’ve been dreaming about floods lately, and not just any floods, apocalyptic, wipe out humanity, floating houses floods.

This is a sneak peek at a contest we may or may not be running through Belfire Press. It may or may not be announced next week. It may or may not be New Bedlam-based.
I may or may not be overusing the may or may not cliche… you decide.

A day in the life of a resident of New Bedlam.

This week, our little town had a record-setting snowfall. In just over 24 hours, 56cm – 1.8 feet – of snow fell. I’m not sure if they counted the snow that fell before midnight Sunday night, because it had started around 9:30 or so.
It didn’t stop until sometime in the early hours of Tuesday morning.

It doesn’t seem to matter how quickly I walk down the hall, opening the doors to each and every bedroom. By the time I reach the mirror at the end – they’re all closed again.
And I know, behind each door is some fresh new nightmare waiting to wrap its bony, cold hands around my heart. On the other side of the one on the right, across from Grandpa’s room, the shadows wait for me to be ready. But ready for what?
The reflection in the mirror is just that. A reflection. …