To say here is far, and to call yonder nearby. Stories on the edge of the every day, strange tales you may or may not be moved by. Strange, curious, fantastic stories told by me, you, him and her. There are many stories but they’re all concluded within a single page, each story around 200 to 1200 characters in length, a short story collection you can easily read. Please enjoy them. Updated every Saturday at 6pm.
When I got home, an arm had arrived. Not a human arm. A small doll’s arm. It wasn’t mine. I had no interest in dolls. To start with, I lived alone, and I had no memory of receiving such a thing, so that was the first problem.
However, if it was on my desk, that meant somebody had put it there, and if so, there was no other way to put it other than, it had “arrived.”
After thinking on it for a while, I put it in a vinyl bag—careful not to get my fingerprints on it—threw it out, and went to sleep.
The next day, I went to work after checking the locks, however, when I got back, another arm had arrived. I compared it to the one from the day before. I realised that that one was a left arm, and this one was a right arm. I wondered if something would happen once the arms, legs, body, and head were all together. I was kind of looking forward to it.
The next day, a right arm arrived. The day after that, a left. After that, a right. Then a right. And yet another right. A month passed with no pattern to the arrival of left and right arms. A cardboard box by the side of my desk contained dozens of arms.
No matter how much time passed, they’d never be assembled. No matter how much time passed, nothing would happen. Even so. When I got home today, another arm had arrived.