Throughout history, few civilizations have sufficiently prepared their deceased for the afterlife. In this collection of humorous short fiction, mankind faces the dreadful consequences.A notorious grand vizier returns in the form of a soft furnishing. Wartime romance leads to an eerie cuppa in the present day.Undead fingers reach for the controls of a doomed aircraft. A TV crew finds more than they bargained for in Fife's most haunted hotel. And an all-too-solid phantom for...

When a boy is given a box by an angel who asks him to care for it, the task shapes his entire life.Originally published in DRAGONS AND DREAMS (edited by Jane Yolen) this is one of Bruce Coville's personal favorites among all his stories.

Kings, lords, liars, usherettes, goal-hangers, gun-men and prostitutes, Whether or not these stories bear any relation to life as it is lived in Endland (sic) is not my problem and good riddance to all those what prefer to read about truly good, lucky and nice people – you won't like this crap at all.A comical and brutal weave of parables gone wrong, Endland holds a broken mirror to England. In its garish but strangely familiar world of empty tower blocks, 24-hour cyber cafes and bomb site...

One morning the world ended. It wasn't with a boom or even a whimper. Ice covered everything. What happened and why is Sharalyn the only one who is still moving? The first story in a new collection, Ice.

Look...there by the dustbins, what do you see? A shimmering and a glimmering, and a figure forming in the darkness. It is the Ghost Teacher...Class 3 are the worst class ever. They do lots of crashing and bashing, nose-picking and flicking, fighting and fidgeting. No teacher can control Class 3. Until Miss Shade - the Ghost Teacher - pays them a visit...

From the collection Dreamin' Dreams; A short ghost story in 3,500 words.It was strange seeing the old Picturedrome again. After twenty-five years I don't know what I expected, but I never thought it would be exactly as I remembered it.A gust of wind threw rain against me and peppered the door with tiny droplets, and somewhere in the deep, dark clouds, thunder rumbled ...

A story about a frightening walk I had in the fog one cold winter's night a long time ago in Sunbury on Thames, Middlesex, England.

20 poems of crime and punishment, from life in prison, to crimes committed to the victims themselves.

For health reasons Father O'Hara must leave his parish. But, before he does, he takes the time to recall the many humorous and irreverent nuances of his tenure.

She is angry sure with me.By now she knows sure I'm here. When she's looked in all the other places she always knows I'm here and this is where she looks next.But I'm here anyway. Here is out of her wayest. Here is not under her feet, making her mad at me, always under her feet is what I am when I'm not here or in some other hiding place where she usually looks first, before she remembers here and then looks here and finds me.I don't have many hiding places for our ...

Petrushka is part of Russian folklore, but is not a folk tale. It is in the European tradition of 'Harlequin' and 'Punch', performed in a puppet theatre at travelling fairs.Petrushka is tired of being a clown in a puppet show. He wants to save pretty ballerina from Strongman and take her in his arms far, far away. His mind is made up and, encouraged by Skeleton, the next day he challenges his rival to a duel. But he's no match for Strongman and ends up in a lifeless, crumpled heap....

We measure our lives in years, months, days, seconds. Time does not move. All measurement is a memory. Some memories are true. April made up her own story. I was there. I know she's telling the truth.