Robert Ebersold
Bio
I hate writing these things.
Dragons, Spaceships, Dark Elder Gods that eat your brains....but talk about myself? Erg.
I'm an artist by talent, stay-at-home-dad by necessity. I love to write stories to go with my art. Might as well make $ too.
Stories (3/0)
Lettuce Eat Cake
I carefully touched the round, smooth slope of the surface. It was cool from being in the refrigerator. Moisture beaded on the green and white leaves. At the top, the color was darker - richer, more varied from one leaf to another. The wide curves at the sides pulled upward at the top to form sweeping curls, jagged edges, and spiraling twirls with toothy points. I was afraid to touch them; afraid to damage them; afraid they would damage me.
By Robert Ebersold3 years ago in Horror
The '68
The old doors rattled and squeaked as the rollers moved for the first time in ages. I winced as a musty smell of old hay, dirt, oil, and manure flew out of the opening. Dust and old wood fell from everywhere. It wasn’t my quietest moment of scavenging, that’s for sure. Luckily this place was in the middle of nowhere, and it was pretty obvious that no one had been here for decades. Rural farms were slowly making a comeback the past few years, mostly as communes, but places like this typically need too much work to rebuild.
By Robert Ebersold3 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
“I got something for you.” We sat down on the edge of my bed, and I looked up. The sun beamed into my room and lit up everything as if I were in some fairy-tale. Kevin reached into his back pocket and handed me something gold and shiny. It was a small golden heart on a chain.
By Robert Ebersold3 years ago in Fiction
