Oddly enough, there is a border that cannot be crossed in fiction. There is a horror that no writer can release and the boundary line is not drawn by his own compliance to what is acceptable by society or by the censorship of government, nor by his own conscience. The most evil mind can draw you in, but only reading will extract the necessary venom to bring the world to ruin. I possess the secret that will bring you to the edge, but you are the one who will perform the deed. And I shall remain blameless.
I thought last week was strange when I found a fish–a speckled trout actually–underneath a bush by my shop (dropped by the eagle I suspect). This week is even weirder so far.
With that forewarning, I invite you to read on. (this was a story idea by the way; not a personal observation. The story line wouldn’t matter. The kicker is that at the end the writer has been effectively hypnotized by (hidden messages within?) the text to be programmed to destroy. Similar I guess to the old telephone hypnosis trick from the old movies.
Thanks to sg