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    Games Children Play
    Games Children Play
    Games Children Play
    Ebook32 pages31 minutes

    Games Children Play

    By Karl Pfeiffer

    ()

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    About this ebook

    We look at children with a kind of nostalgia and hope. In them we see our futures and ourselves. We read them stories about magic and we long for the days when we too still believed.

    What we don't long for though is the rawness of childhood, the monsters in the closet, the fear of the dark...

    For Ariel's Aunt Ella, the more she gets in touch with her inner child, the more the monsters that only children can still see start slowly creeping from the shadows and into the light.

    "We're in... territory [of] mystery and mysterious places... We and the characters seem to move across boundaries, real ones involving the landscape, and emotional ones, where the lines between dream, fantasy, and reality get blurred..." -Leslee Becker, Author and Professor.

    Karl Pfeiffer is an aspiring novelist, journalist, paranormal investigator, lecturer, college student, and ghost hunter at the Stanley Hotel. Forever a romantic, he can't resist those things dark, epic, and mysterious, and this comes through in his writing as he explores the extremes of human emotion, where the edges fray, and what happens when the world breaks down.

    Karl carries a strong web presence, and can be followed on twitter and facebook through his website www.KarlPfeiffer.com

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKarl Pfeiffer
    Release dateOct 17, 2011
    ISBN9781465880017
    Games Children Play
    Author

    Karl Pfeiffer

    Novelist, poet, college student, ghost hunter, television personality, radio personality, and general badass. I write horror, supernatural fiction, experimental, romance, genre bending work. Really anything that speaks to me, is heavy in theme, and carries a strong driving story. If you'd like to say hello or give feedback, be welcome! I'm easy to find!

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      Book preview

      Games Children Play - Karl Pfeiffer

      Games Children Play

      by

      Karl Pfeiffer

      Published by Karl Pfeiffer at Smashwords

      Copyright 2011 Karl Pfeiffer

      http://www.KarlPfeiffer.com

      Discover other titles by Karl Pfeiffer at Smashwords.com:

      Dreamland Crocotta

      Desertion

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Games Children Play

      1.

      Don't tell my mom this. Don't let her read it.

      Sometimes I hear my Aunt Ella. She calls my name at night and keeps me awake. I think that's because I killed her.

      2.

      Ariel, please. Sweetie? I screamed.

      Like she could even hear me anymore.

      3.

      My name is Ariel. My teacher asked me to write this. She wanted to know about if I am afraid of the dark. I told her that I wasn't when she asked but I fibbed some. My Aunt Ella calls that a little white lie.

      I am only scared of the dark sometimes. Sometimes my room gets really scary while I am trying to sleep. Mom says that is only because I'm still getting used to it.

      Sometimes my closet is what bothers me. I can't tell you why. I guess it just feels like there is something in there and it watches me try to sleep. People shouldn't watch others sleep. That's private. Unless they're babies. But that's because babies need protected.

      4.

      It's ironic, looking back, in our dialogue and conversation, how much blurring there was between boundaries so carefully established by time and culture. Your childhood is there, behind you. Your present is here before you, and you're required to act your age, else the good respectable people of society -- your bosses, your fathers, your friends, your girlfriend's family -- will shun you, will supply you those pitying looks only reserved for single fathers with wild children at the stores and kids at restaurants who can't stay in their seats, the ones who talk and cry during the movies. The paining hypocrisy, or fitting irony, of these looks is that even in the cases of those without offspring of their own is the insistence through and through that they were not children. That

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