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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “My Name is nobody” Down in the Dirt, v156 (the April 2018 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book At Midnight the Down in the Dirt Jan.-Apr. 2018 collection book		get the 418 page Jan.-Apr. 2018 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Flipped

Allan Onik

    In an octagonal room in his Victorian mansion, Sutter Cain wrote feverishly at his desk. The desk was located in the exact center of the room, which stood at the highest point in the house and was lined with red and black draperies. His butler knocked on the door.
    “Would you like an ink ribbon for your typewriter sir? How is Reign of the Dead coming along?” The servant’s voice echoed in the dimly lit hallway outside.
    “For the last time Sebastian, I use a MacBook. I’m not Stephen King.”
    “The Trick-or-Treaters are dying to get a bite, master. Why don’t you do them a favor and meet them at the door. I left your typewriter on the porch rocking chair.”
    “Blast it. I thought I locked the gate.”
    When Sutter left the room he was alone in the hallway. He descended the stairs and walked to his front door. When he opened it, he walked out on his porch and sat in the rocking chair, placing the typewriter on his lap. The streets were in a blaze with dead, demons, and gargoyles writhing in chaos. The moaning and screaming sounded like a pale symphony. His lawn and garden remained lush and well-tended. He began to type.

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