by Author Joseph J. O’Donnell

John Carver was collecting a nice pension from the Army. Single and retired, he took to fishing to pass the days away. He would take trips to fishing holes across the country where his ‘Angling Magazine’ boasted trophy size catches and peaceful surroundings. His pension didn’t quite cover these trips, so he worked three nights a week as a night watchman for a security company.

John was known as a practical joker by some of the co-workers that he shared his nightly watches with. This particular night he literally had a graveyard shift to man. A union grave digger’s strike left a large local cemetery unattended, and waiting graves caused a backlog in coffins that went unburied. The management decided to store the caskets in a large warehouse on the grounds that normally housed the tractors, and digging equipment, used on the premises. They didn’t want any of the coffins vandalized and they wanted to keep temptation out of reach of the pranks the local youths might conjure up. (more…)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a  tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door- only this, and nothing more.”

I was an English teacher at Stone Junior High School, in Centreville, Virginia. I had always cherished this subject throughout my own school days, and it feels almost natural for me to make this my career. (more…)