I got a summer job working in an occult supply store. There, I met the scariest person of my life: myself.

“I need wasp stingers,” I told myself. My face stared dead-eyed from beneath the hood of my favorite jacket.

As I handed the packet across the counter to myself, I said, “What happened to us, man?”

I grabbed both my wrists. “Don’t accept any invitations,” I hissed. “It’s not the nature of the cult, it’s the peer pressure.”

I thought back to the email I’d just received and shook my head. It was too late. I had already accepted.

Thanks for reading!

If you like what I do, please consider showing your support with a one-time donation through Ko-fi!

To keep up with future author updates, weekly flash fiction, writing advice, and book reviews, subscribe to my monthly newsletter!

Join my email list

Processing…

Success! You're on the list.

Whoops! There was an error and we couldn't process your subscription. Please reload the page and try again.