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MOLD LANG SYNE

It’s a new year, fraught with possibilities.  And Charlie Barker is here to take you through a few of them in the Circus of the Unknown.  Don’t let the fact that he died in a tent fire a few years back dissuade you.  He’s nothing if not dedicated to his craft!  As long as you get out of the fiery tent before the flaps close, you should be fine.

Good Ole Char has three stories known as CreepyGrams to give you today.  First, something topical this time of year.  A girl plans to stick to her New Year’s resolution no matter what odds may be against her in RESOLUTION.  Next up, a poor lowly old soul decides to end it all by plummeting off of a bridge and finds that it may just be haunted in THE SUICIDE BRIDGE.  Lastly, a despicable tax collector discovers he may have cheated the wrong person in DON’T WINE ABOUT IT.

On Thursday the 4th, Char will be back to delve into three more possibilities from the odyssey of the odd.  Please come back and enjoy three more short horror stories featuring the terrifying, otherworldly, frightening, and otherwise weird tales of the bizarre and paranormal.  Make it a habit, won’t you?

THE CIRCUS HAS ARRIVED…

The tents are being set up
The sideshow is finally here
Come back again on Tuesday
To get your fair share of fear

AN EERIE OUTER SPACE ORBIT

Through the vastness of time and space
A ship adrift on solar winds
Pilot with a skeletal face
Course set where reality bends

The universe, where myths abound
Gave promise of legends unknown
Left earth’s hold with vessel unsound
Now floating with both engines blown

Three stories per cycle are heard
As spaceship goes barrelling by
With return forever deferred
Unless orbit fails in the sky

Yet one last action as captain
Still remains for the wayward host
Self destruct sequence could happen
If he yields and gives one last toast

FRIGID FEARS IN FROZEN LANDS

In the windswept northern wasteland
Five stormy miles above camp base
A climber suspended by hand
Will be soon lost without a trace

Whilst searching for stories untold
In the arctic barren remote
A blizzard began to unfold
As he found a grim anecdote

He shouted out three of the tales
With the hopes of finding his way
All were soon lost in the storm gales
No response, his grip gave away

Then he triggered the snow to slide
On accident during his fall
His skeleton easy to hide
Snow and bone both white in the squall