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Glitches
Glitches
Glitches
Ebook44 pages38 minutes

Glitches

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In these three interconnected stories, reality bends and breaks in unexpected ways. A woman trapped in a deadly time loop discovers her fate may hinge on a simple ritual. Another finds herself questioning her sanity after a cupcake accident leads her to an ethereal Japanese professor. A man awakens to confront supernatural threats in a sinister city where darkness breeds violence. Through fractured time and realities, these tales from an expert in cryptography explore the thin line between the real and the impossible, where small choices unlock alternate worlds.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 26, 2025
ISBN9798230379799
Glitches
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    Book preview

    Glitches - Jean-Philippe Aumasson

    Glitches

    Glitches

    Short stories

    Jean-Philippe Aumasson

    Contents

    Foreword

    Retry

    Cupcake

    Tower

    Foreword

    These stories emerged from my dreams. Please read them in the order presented. The last story pays homage to David Lynch's work.

    Retry

    Day 1

    I woke up late that Sunday morning, the Oregon sun slanting through the thin curtains and cutting through the room in cold, unfriendly lines. The clock on the nightstand read half past twelve, but the sight of the time felt again more like a trap than a measure. That summer everything in that town seemed adrift and leaden like the morning haze. Mark lay beside me, his breathing steady, the warmth of his body a tether didn’t yet know I would need.

    I turned to him, traced the edge of his jaw with my fingers, gently stroked his messy brown hair, felt the life clinging to him. His eyes languidly opened through the soundless space between our breaths as if the day outside meant nothing. Such moments vanish like twilight shadows fleeing with the last sun rays, never to return once the light faded—a truth I pretended didn’t apply to me.

    Our eyes met for a fleeting second and we sidled up to each other, like there was something beneath it all pulling us closer. When it was over he held me, almost distant, as if even he could feel the edges of the day fraying, coming undone. My dreamy stare caught Plum gliding with feline grace across the bedroom floor, stealthy as always, slipping onto the bed like a weightless sprite. She curled up at our feet into a cozy ball of blue-grey fur, unmindful of the time, now on the hour.

    The ringtone sliced through the stillness with a sound that felt sharper than it should have. I reached for my phone and saw the screen light up with my mother’s name. Without thinking, I hung up. The phone rang again, insistent, and I answered.

    June, where are you? We’re all waiting.

    The family lunch, oops. I was supposed to be there sitting around the table and playing the part I was supposed to play. Instead I was naked in bed with Mark, the minutes dissolving like mist in the morning sun. Now something in the air, something I couldn’t name, felt wrong.

    I’m sorry, I said, pushing the covers back, the warmth and safety of the bed falling apart. I’ll be there soon.

    Mark mutedly watched as I scrambled to find clothes, his regard steady but shadowed. The silence between us grew thicker, fueling my agitation. Oblivious to the urgency, Plum stretched then stared at me and blinked, before seeking refuge in the kitchen.

    I found fresh underwear and faded blue jeans, pulled on a demure burgundy sweater, my hands shaking as I tried to fix my long tangled dark hair marked by sleep and by him. The mirror caught the reflection of wild eyes and a face pretty in a way that felt like it didn’t matter. I dabbed concealer and foundation to mask my weariness and rushed out the door, greeted by the crisp midday wind.

    The soulless street glowered at me beneath

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