HeyJaredAroundSciFi
Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away. Philip K. Dick
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 12, 2026
Latest issues
No Human Foot Has Ever Touched Those Streets (opens the original)
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I was twelve the first time I read The Dunwich Horror.1 I don’t remember every twist of the plot, but I remember the feeling clearly. A kind of wrong pull, the kind that flares up when you know something is going to hurt you and you move closer anyway. It bothered me. I got it almost physically, and still I couldn’t stop reading.Back then, I didn’t know anything about H. P. Lovecraft. To me, he was just a name on a cover. But there was one thing I did understand, even without the words for it ye
The Sunset Un-limited (opens the original)
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I want to tell you about something that happened to me at work. It involved, among other things, the possible extinction of the human race. I was at one of our annual company offsites. You know the kind of thing. When your company has offices and teams scattered across the country, every so often you have to get everyone in the same place, keep the different groups connected, talk things through, and actually sit in a room with people you rarely see but who are, technically, still your coworkers
A Small Apocalypse (opens the original)
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The beans hit the shelf with a soft clatter. Emilio wiped his hands on his apron and looked outside. The sky was pale, like always. People had stopped sitting outside in the evenings, ’cause there wasn’t much reason to anymore. The buzzing had something to do with it too, though Emilio had quit hearing it a long time back. Back when he first rolled into town with four rags to his name and a diploma nobody gave a damn about, things were different. The sun used to bite, in a good way. It got under
The Sunset Un-limited (opens the original)
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Back then I always came home late. That was during the messy stretch between thirteen and twenty. College came after, and studying ate up all my time, but before that, I’d come home late every night. If I didn’t have a reason to stay out, I stayed out anyway. Every night when I got home, I’d find my grandfather sitting at the table, lost in a book. His arms and hands already ached by then, so he needed the table to prop the book up.I didn’t think much of it. Reading like that seemed pointless to
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