This is a story idea that just came to me in a flash, I don't know what to call it yet, and I am not sure what it is. Horror, thriller, crime, I don't know, but it's in my head and it's... well disturbing.

Here is what I have jotted down so far, hopefully I can turn it into a story.


Man writes letters to young girls. To him they appear innocent, kind, sweet, and thoughtful. He has been doing this for years, he keeps some, mails others. He never really remembers mailing them or even how or where he got the addresses.

He works, but really can't remember much about it. That isn't real to him. He can only recall the sweet, thoughtful letters he writes to the girls. He really doesn't know them, but he somehow feels like he does. He feels connected, very close. To him he is a kind uncle or caring father that is far away and hasn't seen his children in a long time, but he writes to them constantly, expressing his love and encouragement to them.

He is not an old man, but he feels tired and sore most of the time. He is plagued with tormenting dreams that he can not recall, but he knows they sometimes keep him from rest. His bizarre dreams are filled with buckets of water, the smells of pine and urine, bathrooms and bloody toilet seats.

One time he wakes in horror as a dream that feels all to real makes bile rise to the top of his throat. He barely makes it to his tiny bathroom as he collapses to his knees and heaves violently into the small porcelain bowl. He tastes the blood he was licking from the white rims from his nightmare and begins to vomit wildly again. At last he crumples to the floor, dry heaves still convulsing his weakened body.

Of course he can not remember this when he awakens in the morning. He only feels that he has not slept well. As the morning smell of coffee fills his senses and brings memories of long ago, he writes....

copyright Paul Hosler
10/3/2006