Nightmare Magazine, Issue 145 (October 2024) by Wendy N. Wagner

Author:Wendy N. Wagner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Adamant Press
Published: 2024-09-23T20:06:19+00:00

©2024 by Simon Gilbert.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Simon Gilbert is an Irish writer. His short story ‘Perfect Water’ won the 2023 Mairtín Crawford Award for Short Story. When not reading or writing, he’s obsessing over music, cooking, or raising houseplants. He lives in Belfast.

To learn more about the author and this story, read the Author Spotlight

NotRob

Isabel Cañas | 870 words

* * *

CW: pregnancy, implied cannibalism.

* * *

When my daughter was a newborn, I found I only had the attention span to write micro and flash; I wrote a lot of it. I was also sleeping very little at night and crashed most afternoons, which for me is when the weirdest dreams happen. “NotRob” was one of them.

—IC

I’m in the living room with Rob when there’s a knock at the door. He looks up from his bowl of cereal with detached interest.

His face drains to gray.

“Oh.” He swallows. “No.”

We rent a craftsman house. The door has an ornamental window; I can see who’s standing outside. Generally, I don’t like it. I don’t want delivery guys seeing me eating cereal in my underwear on the couch next to my husband, like I’m doing now.

I see my husband on the porch.

Rob—Rob but not, NotRob—knocks on the door.

“Do not open the door,” Rob cries.

My brain stumbles as I stand. Before I know it, Rob’s on his feet and he’s seized my face, jerking my chin so that I’m forced to look at him instead of NotRob.

“Do not look him in the eye.”

He’s never touched me like this; I go straight into prey mode. This is bad, really bad, though I can’t say why. My saliva just tastes like it.

“We have to let it pass,” he says, firm as a mantra.

“I want to wake up from this dream,” I say, voice taut.

The anti-nauseas I’ve been taking for morning sickness wipe my sleep black and clean. I haven’t had to break out of a nightmare in months. I’m rusty.

Rob releases my jaw. “This isn’t a dream.”

“That’s exactly what you’d say if it were one.”

I turn to go upstairs. Rob snatches my arms, gripping to bruise. “Do not look him in the eye.”

My heart thrashes my sternum. This feels thick and sticky and wrong. I have to force myself out of this.

“I am going to take a nap,” I recite. I’ve practiced and failed and succeeded; decades of night terrors have nothing on this spell. “When I wake up, this will all be over.”

Grief softens Rob’s face. The taste of milk and cereal lingers on my tongue; it goes sour with doubt. My senses are too crisp, my pulse too heavy. I feel the hardwood beneath bare feet and the sweat on Rob’s palms.

But I know how to get out of dreams. I will get out of this one.

I turn away as NotRob bangs on the door. I ignore his voice, which is garbled and tinny, a missive through a distant walkie-talkie.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the baby cry from the porch.

My breath cuts out.

My hand flies to my stomach.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.