Stop Signs in the Dark an Anthology of Short Horror Fiction

By Paz Brahm

Stop Signs in the Dark is an anthology of 13 horror flash fiction / short fiction stories that are about how the mundane can easily be transformed into something terrifying. Similar to stop signs in the dark, these stories capture moments of ordinary people having their normal lives turn towards the bizarre and disturbing. This anthology is a companion book to "Soothsayer: A Haunted Poetry Collection".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paz Brahm
• Release date: Apr 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798224748648

Paz Brahm

I have loved writing since I was a kid and storytelling has always been a passion of mine. I love writing poetry and really enjoy tackling many themes; from the world around us to the outer reaches of space. I enjoy writing scifi, fantasy, and recently, horror stories.

Book preview

Stop Signs in the Dark

An Anthology of Short Horror Fiction

Paz Brahm

Copyright © 2021 Paz Brahm

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Paz Brahm

https://pazbrahm.com/

First Edition: March 2021

Second Edition: May 2024

Preface

In 2021, I published my first flash fiction anthology book, Stop Signs in the Dark. I was proud of myself for finally overcoming my insecurities and mental health and putting my work out there. This anthology had a theme in mind: making the mundane outright terrifying. The metaphorical imagery of stop signs in the dark stemmed from my countless night drives from late work shifts on the back roads leading to my old home. They were my constant nighttime companions along those long stretches of lightless roads and yet there was something unnerving about those signs being illuminated by my headlights alone. The pitch fathomless darkness behind them, always lurking. Waiting.

When I published the first edition, it was when I was undiagnosed and unmedicated. I was at the peak of my internalized terror that I was too scared to give a name. But with the limitless love and support from my best friend of now twenty years, I dared to give it a name.

Now, in 2024, I have come back to this anthology in a better state of mind. Diagnosed, medicated, and with an editing certification, I gave these stories a proper edit and this book a proper preface (not a foreword as I so erroneously called in the first edition). I started this series of flash fiction to show people how even mundane life could become terrifying in an instant. I think in a way, I wanted others to see the world how I often saw it growing up, all the way into my 30s. Either readers would relate, ridicule, or perhaps be repulsed.

Much like comedy, horror is subjective and honestly, I find that fun. My hope is that one or many of these stories strike a chord somehow. While some of these stories are rooted in some of my experiences orpast, all of these stories are fictional. How does that disclaimer go? Oh right.

Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

With that out of the way, I want to thank you for picking up this book. Keep the light close. As there are countless stop signs in our world, so are there stories nestled in the deep, fathomless darkness. Lurking beyond the limit of the light’s beam. Always waiting for when the light dies out.

Passing Through Cusher

Winter had dragged this season, the long, gray days lazily drawled into each other. The first, warm gentle huff of Spring was enough to breathe life into Cusher, a town so small that in recent years, it had no documented census. People drove through, but rarely stuck around, even when the town made a poor attempt at becoming the sweetest strawberry patch in the Midwest.

Evan was walking home, his bicycle had a flat the moment he rode it down his best friend’s gravel driveway. He wasn’t far, on bike it took him twenty five minutes and the sun would still be shining for a couple hours at least. So Evan declined his best friend’s offer of staying until his parents came home. It would be too late in the