Chapter 1

For three years I lived in a house thirty minutes from the nearest town. An old Highschool friend I hadn’t spoken to in years offered me a room on a whim for only $300.00 a month. The only rule was that I put up with, and helped with on occasion, whatever oddities showed up on the property.

I say oddities, but that doesn’t cover it. Some were almost ordinary, like the floorboard that kept migrating to different rooms every few weeks. Others were more concerning. The tall man in the trees, and the frogking are a couple that come to mind. I’m getting ahead of myself.

My housemate, let's call him Anthony, was an odd fellow. About a year older than myself, he had a lanky build and would talk your ear off about whatever war happened to be his hyperfixation at the moment. He had a dog named Pickle who always seemed to stare a little too long.

The story that sticks with me the most happened about a year in. The neighbors across the street were a retired couple, relatively quiet and pleasant. Every couple of months they would do a burn pile.

You always knew when they’d started. A pungent, sour smell would waft its way into the house, reminding me of the reek of old vomit. I never knew what they were burning on such a regular basis, and I didn’t care to know.

This time the gap between burns had been longer than usual. I figured they’d been away on vacation. Then the smell arrived again, more pungent than I remembered. I needed air and a cigarette. I grabbed my cheap pack and stepped outside.

“Need to pick up a better brand next time I go out,” I muttered, lighting up. The first cigarette of the day always hits the best; the burn in the throat, the rush of nicotine to the head; even with the smell hanging in the air.

I finished the cigarette and turned to go back inside when something moved by Anthony’s broken down Mitsubishi. A small green creature, no more than three feet tall, squatted in front of the bumper. Its ears hung down to its ankles. Its nose was like a pig's snout. Its mouth was far too wide for the head, like someone had stretched it.

I reached slowly for the door handle. The thing turned its head. It startled, tripped over its own ears, and hit the ground with a wet-sounding thud.

“Please don’t hurt!” It cried out with a cartoonishly shrill voice.

I fell on my ass in surprise. Did that thing just speak English? I got up carefully and took a step closer.

“I’m not gonna hurt you buddy. What's your name?”

It glanced around, ears dragging against the cement, then it seemed to settle.

“My name Trash. Are you friend?”

I could have sworn I smoked a cigarette. I hadn’t done psychedelics at that point in my life. Fuck I needed a smoke. I reached into my pocket and pulled another cigarette. I brought it to my mouth and lit it.

“Is food?” Trash pointed at my pocket.

“No, it’s called a cigarette, not food.” I took a drag.

Trash looked up at me with wide puppy eyes.

“You wanna try?” I held the cigarette out.

Trash quickly snatched it and jammed it in its mouth before I could pull back. For a moment nothing happened. Then Trash began spinning in a circle letting out high whoops while smoke began to billow from its ears.

“Nasty smoke!” It spat the butt onto the gravel and stomped it flat.

I laughed despite myself.

“Yeah it is. You’re a fun little guy, Trash”

It stuck out a hand. The skin was cool and slightly damp. I shook it.

“Nice to make friends with you, Trash.”

The shot cracked across the yard. Trash dropped. A neat hole opened in the side of its head and a thick white fluid welled out, slow and stringy. The old man from across the street walked over with his rifle, whistling something cheerful under his breath.

“Thanks for finding this sucker. When they get ripe you’ve only got a couple days to harvest and cook them before they get like this.”

He bent down and inserted his thumbs into the hole. He peeled the skull open with a loud wet crack. Inside was a quivering white mass with creamy veins bulging out. He pinched off a chunk and held it out to me.

“A little bitter at this stage, but still good.”

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

“More for me.” He pushed the piece into his mouth, chewed with pleasure, and started dragging the body back across the street by one ear.

Some of the things that happened at that house were the best moments of my life. Some I wish I could forget entirely. I’m not sure I’m ready to tell all of them. But I needed to get this one out.