Mr. Strings: A Short Scary Story (Horror Story)

As he led me into the back of the store, the light from the outside world fading into a tangled forest of knick-knacks and curios I began to think that perhaps, finally, I had found the place and that this, after all my searching, could be something special. I had been scouring the junk shops, antique dealers, and curio shops of this particular city for over a month, sifting through the myriad and manifold collections of disparate delights looking for that one treasure that would be the centerpiece of my exhibit. I had, it is true, discovered several interesting artifacts amongst the cornucopia of dross and useless things, but nothing that stood out to me as a genuine one of a kind object of curiosity, such as would make visitors to the exhibit gasp or force the tiny hairs on the backs of their necks to stand on end. Now, finally, I hoped, I may have found such an item. The exhibition, ‘Creatures, Collections, and Curios’ had been booked for months. The idea was to arrange one room of the gallery into the appearance of an old curiosity shop, overlaying and storing a vast array of ‘things’ from around the world and showing through these tangible, solid objects, the power of narrative. My idea was for the visitor to be able to...

© 2020 Author's Republic (Hljóðbók): 9781662150258

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Hljóðbók: 31 oktober 2020