Speculative Fiction and Poetry
The Bigfoot’s Lament by Bill Abbott
The Bigfoot’s Lament Bill Abbott (Cryptozoology Files) People. I’m tired of people. It’s why I live in the woods. Me. Yeah, me. In the woods. In the wilds. In the wilderness. In the bushes, in the trees. I’m trying to stay away from people….
The Jackalope’s Lament by Bill Abbott
The Jackalope’s Lament Bill Abbott (Cryptozoology Files) Joe the Jackalope stared at the clock. Louise was late again. He didn’t know why he ever gave her a second look, other than their kind was so rare. Mating during lightning flashes without hurting each other…
Nessie by Bill Abbott
Nessie Bill Abbott (Cryptozoology Files) Nessie sipped her coffee, thought about finding her way to the surface again just long enough to get a few things at the store, but the paparazzi. Oh, those blasted humans with their cameras. And the technology keeps getting…
Stan by Bill Abbott
Stan Bill Abbott (Cryptozoology Files) I made it, somehow. A few chickens here, a few goats there, and I made it. See, all you have to do is drink some blood, and they’ll love you online. I’m a serious, real mythical figure online, even…
Wendigo by Bill Abbott
Wendigo Bill Abbott (Cryptozoology Files) The hunger falls on me again, thought Fred. The desire for the meal that remains uneaten, the meat that is tainted by being one’s own. The thinness, the leanness, the real skinny, the hunger. The desire for more, for…
War Fog by Bill Abbott
War Fog Bill Abbott As the blood drained off the edges of the fields, we danced on the dead, proclaiming victory at the end of the fight between the forces of good and evil, knowing which side we were, as the winners. The explosions…
The Stories of the Woman, as Told to the Poet by the Passing Pilgrims by Bill Abbott
The Stories of the Woman, as Told to the Poet by the Passing Pilgrims Bill Abbott 1. Mastery In the evening of the last day of August, She chose to boast she was the strongest And most useful of the list of us. She…
Vernal Equinox by Bill Abbott
Vernal Equinox Bill Abbott This great fire burns through the cool evening, leaving a radiance of heat, a burning consumption of the wooden fuel we have stacked, leaving only a large pile of ash by morning, after the glow has given way to gray….
Grant Wilson Art
