Category: H.P. Lovecraft
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The Thermostat of Terror, or Climbing the Ladder of Dread
HP Lovecraft had a notorious, borderline pathological hatred of the cold. When the thermometer dipped in New England, the gentleman from Providence didn’t just bundle up—he practically withered away. He became physically sluggish, deeply miserable, and convinced that warmth was synonymous with comfort and life, while the frigid cold was the domain of absolute evil…
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READING A PIECE OF OLD FLASH FICTION (OR SO I THOUGHT)
“…there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.” -H.P. Lovecraft, ‘Azathoth’ Over the weekend I felt like finding a very short story to indulge in. The last seven months have been a roller coaster of health issues and generally fading out of…
Threads that Bind 