Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

The Typist
The Typist
The Typist
Ebook39 pages33 minutes

The Typist

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

In the vein of classics from Lovecraft and Poe comes the horror tale of Henry Pickman. A disillusioned newspaper editor down on his luck, Pickman's fate takes terrifying twist when he finds an antique typewriter with a dark secret and the boundaries between fiction and reality begin to fade.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherD.W. Metz
Release dateNov 21, 2015
ISBN9781310948046
The Typist
Author

D.W. Metz

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I have published a handful of short stories in the horror genre and have been featured in a number of poetry anthologies. Discovering Duluoz is the first solo publication of my poetry. It is available in paperback, e-book and on CD.

Related authors

Related to The Typist

Related ebooks

Thrillers For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for The Typist

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    The Typist - D.W. Metz

    The Typist

    by D.W. Metz

    Copyright 2015 D.W. Metz

    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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Contents

    The Typist

    Other titles by D.W. Metz

    I.

    My current state of incarceration may dissuade you from accepting that what you're about to read is true, or if in fact it could even be real. I might not believe it myself if I hadn't lived it. I remember the evening I met that monstrous machine. If she were a ship, I would think to name her Serendipity, having met her somewhere between coincidence and fate; but that reveals nothing of the nefarious nature within. My name is Henry Pickman and as of three weeks ago I earned my wages as managing editor for a local newspaper. The town is of no consequence, as hundreds if not thousands of towns like it litter the canvas of America. Hundreds if not thousands of managing editors labor waist deep in high school football and library bake sales. The small town paper offered the last refuge to the human-interest story—except humans had ceased to be interesting.

    As per my usual routine on Friday evenings, having an insatiable hunger for horrors grim, I perused the local 'everything used' shop to see what new books made it to the shelves. I used to frequent the larger bookstores but my habit became too expensive. Besides, I loved that old book smell, and the ones from the consignment shop had a head start, like whiskeys aged in oak barrels. Having resigned myself to no new acquisitions that week auspiciously on my exit I saw what could have been a piece of history itself. The frame was a wrought matte black, heavy and solid. The keys perched on small rusted armaments. Near the top of the carriage, where it bore the word Remington, a few small paint spatters added to its persona. It was straight out of the Lost Generation, and crazy I'm not when I tell you it called to me. A press of the space bar advanced the Remington's carriage. A press of a key and the mechanical arm swung like a trebuchet into the ribbon. A small puff of dust drifted up as the head hit the matte black silk. And for twenty

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1