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The toilet block on the northern edge of Deadwood Park writhed with graffiti.

Stall doors creaked to life and slithered off their hinges, accompanied by cries of dismay from the stalls’ hapless occupants. The corrugated metal roof flexed like a set of giant moss-encrusted wings, support struts shrieking as it tore free of the thick stone walls. A half-dissolved urinal cake sprouted a screaming inhuman face and shrieked imprecations at a terrified Stanley Binkerman.

Moe Bob, Lou Bob and Bob Bob, their trigger fingers crimson with spilled droplets of aerosolised paint, gaped at the vision before them. Then they ran.

Read the rest of the Trusted Associates verse here )

Read the rest of the Holmes Brothers verse here )

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Eerie Indiana

September 2017

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