{"id":1584,"date":"2015-01-20T18:09:24","date_gmt":"2015-01-20T18:09:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stoneskin.wpengine.com\/?p=1584"},"modified":"2015-01-21T00:11:53","modified_gmt":"2015-01-21T00:11:53","slug":"teasers-to-lovecraft-chesya-burke","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.stoneskinpress.com\/index.php\/teasers-to-lovecraft-chesya-burke\/","title":{"rendered":"Teasers to Lovecraft: Chesya Burke"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Letters to Lovecraft<\/em><\/a> is our newest genre-blending anthology of original fiction, and to ring in the new year for our readers we\u2019ll be posting excerpts from each of the stories. Today’s piece comes from the incomparable Chesya Burke, and takes us on a chilling journey the likes of which Lovecraft himself never dared imagine…<\/p>\n

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Edgar Kay Morrison died for the first time on August 13, 1900. He would die many nights after that, it would seem, always for the same reason. He was an enigma to some; to others, an evil devil sent to bewitch; and still yet, a prophet to most. However, on that night, he was none of those things. He was a seven-year-old boy who thought God had sent his chariots down for him, on the count of him having been such a good boy all his years.<\/em><\/p>\n

At least that was what his momma whispered in his ears as he lay there wrenching in pain. The cramps started in his legs two days before, and had quickly taken over his body. That was when Momma sent Papa to get Doc Warner. He would know what to do, she said.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cCalm yo self, boy. God ain\u2019t gonna set no pain on you, as you cain\u2019t take.\u201d Even as his momma spoke, another cramp seized his body. \u201cThem chariots gonna be worth all this if they get you tonight,\u201d she sounded so sure, but he saw tears rolling down her too-pale cheeks.<\/em><\/p>\n

Edgar closed his eyes. He didn\u2019t want to see her this way. He felt guilty. His sister had died just the year before, and his momma had stayed in bed for two weeks. She had cried so much that she said she had run out of tears. He didn\u2019t want her to go through that again.<\/em><\/p>\n

The pain \u2014 like a lead pipe snapping down on the small of his back \u2014 seized him again, and his body contorted; his arms flailing behind him, his head thrown back. He looked for all the world as if he were trying to roll himself up in a big ol\u2019 ball, backward. His fingers were knotted in peculiar shapes, and he couldn\u2019t get them to move.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe devil,\u201d his younger brother, David, whispered from somewhere behind his head.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cShush up, boy. Now go on over there and get me something to put under his head. Go on now.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

David watched for another moment, and as Edgar screamed again, he jumped and ran into the other room. He didn\u2019t come back for a full ten minutes, when he did, the only thing he brought with him was the old thick Bible, which was the only thing Momma had gotten from her father when he\u2019d died twenty years before.<\/em><\/p>\n

Momma took one look at him and shook her head. \u201cGet\u2026 Give me that thing.\u201d She took the Bible from David, and placed it under Edgar\u2019s head. \u201cThis here will give you comfort in your time of trouble.\u201d She told him, kissing his hand and touching the Good Book.<\/em><\/p>\n

Outside, thick drops of rain hit the crude windowpane that Papa had cut himself just the year before, before Edgar\u2019s sister had died. David went to the window, rubbed the condensation off, and stared out into the night. He was scared. Edgar couldn\u2019t blame him, but what he couldn\u2019t make out was if the boy really thought that he was the devil\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

For the rest, get Letters to Lovecraft<\/em> from Stone Skin Press<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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Chesya Burke<\/b>\u2019s \"\"2011 fiction collection, Let\u2019s Play White<\/i>, was featured in io9 and received praise from Samuel Delany and Nikki Giovanni. She is also recognized for her critical analysis of genre and race issues, such as her articles, \u201cRace and The Walking Dead\u201d and \u201cSuper Duper Sexual Spiritual Black Woman: The New and Improved Magical Negro,\u201d published in Clarkesworld Magazine<\/i>. Chesya is currently getting her MA in African American studies at Georgia State University and is a juror for the 2013 Shirley Jackson awards.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Letters to Lovecraft is our newest genre-blending anthology of original fiction, and to ring in the new year for our readers we\u2019ll be posting excerpts from each of the stories. Today’s piece comes from the incomparable Chesya Burke, and takes…<\/span><\/p>\n

Read more ›<\/a><\/div>\n

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