Amos Glade

Joined February 2021

178 stories

Bio

Welcome to Pteetneet City & my World of Weird. Here you'll find stories of the bizarre, horror, & magic realism as well as a steaming pile of poetry. Thank you for reading.

For more madness check out my website: https://www.amosglade.com/

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Stories (178)

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Calabi-Yau Space
There is magic There is science Who’s to say which one is which? We all live in a matrix, waiting for a glitch. Time is an illusion,
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
The Uncanny Valley
Sometimes in life we take missteps and falter in our travels Be mountains climbed or forests lost a shadowed gloomy alley
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
Doppelgänger
Doppelgänger, Doppelgänger. Rebirth Absolution Who are you to be my judge? All I see in you is me. Doppelgänger,
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
The Stray
Reckless free spirit, Innocent risk-taking stray, Choose your beginning.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
The Mortician
The mighty feared mortician works with loved ones that we lost. Usher souls to their next journey with blood the only cost.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
The Circle Path
I wandered through a deep dark wood and found a path of stone. I found my curiosity and it began to roam. I stepped upon the path
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
The House of Seven Sisters
The House of Seven Sisters, where hope can be released, by finding faith and purpose, and renewed spirituality. The oldest has a crown of roses, careful of her thorns.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
Snapdragon
Don’t open the door when the light is on. The light was on and the warning stood out in thick black letters against the red glare of the darkroom lights.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Horror
Inhale
Ensconced by thick fog, sunlight attempts to warm earth. Dewy spring morning.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
Squid Ink Fortune
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. “Weird fortune,” I told myself and took a bite of the sugar crisp treat. I wouldn’t usually eat something dropped at my feet by some hungry street hound, a story for another day, but this particular cookie was solid black.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Fiction
Two Bit Scratch
There was only one rule: Don’t Open the Door. Ken repeated it to himself as he took the rickety wooden steps leading into the bare bone basement. Scrawled across the back of the wall in black marker repeated: Don’t Open the Door. Underneath that was a simple door scratched white in the mildewed gray brick.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Horror
Strange Lights
Ubiquitous chaff, Falling from heaven’s reaches with, Odd biology.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets