Anthony Cicchino

Hi, all! I enjoy writing horror, both prose and poetry. Working on my prose at the moment. Thank you for reading!

534

Writings

Followers

Following

Anthony Cicchino

Hi, all! I enjoy writing horror, both prose and poetry. Working on my prose at the moment. Thank you for reading!

534

Writings

Followers

Following

Adam’s Letter

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Instead of finding Adam in his room, I found a letter, neatly tucked in one of his favorite books. He usually read after school, sitting there in the bay window. The sun shone in neatly, illuminating the book and the envelope as if some divine sign. I sat and pulled the paper from the pages, smirking. Adam was always playing tricks like this on us; hiding, running, seeking to be found. The psychia...

Drama

Horror

Clay

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Her hands work furiously on the pale-white clay. Someone passing by and looking through the window might think she was lit within by the fires of a thousand ancient spirits, clawing at her heart and animating her fingers like a puppet. The clay melts before her fingers, twisting nothingness into form. She smirks, knowing her talent, until her foot slips on a bead of sweat, a tiny splotch of water ...

Drama

Home

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I made eye contact with the bird, feeling the summer breeze brush my skin with the scent of nostalgia. Childhoods, many, come and gone. Standing here, eye to eye with an old friend in the yard of my childhood home, I felt free again. The house was gone, condemned and demolished, but the tree remained, and the grass, and the birds. Although the ground was harder, denser, and the air didn’t smell as...

Drama

Wake

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Adam peered into the coffin. His best friend lay inside, hands clasped over a favorite t-shirt bearing the name of a band they had seen live countless times. There was a flower on his chest, pulled from one of the many bouquets surrounding where he lay. One of his nails, Adam noticed, was bitten around the cuticle; his best friend always had that bad habit.

As he turned, he tripped over his shoe...

Drama

Reality Blurred

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I knew I was in Ashfield as soon as I took one breath. The reek of sewage and pestilence, mingled with pine trees and tar, filled my nostrils, and I knew that somehow I was alive in the world I created. I pinched myself, but this was no dream; I was alive here, breathing and living. Which meant that She was here, too.

I heard her crawling from the crinkling leaves of the forest, and I turned fro...

Fantasy

Listen

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

The stream of consciousness narrative draws me from my bed. I’ve been dreaming all night about something I’ve never seen before. The dim lights of the hallway made it feel as if I were in a mall during closing hours, but I knew that was not the case. This was my high school and I could feel that my friends were no longer here with me.

I turned in bed and closed my eyes again, hoping not to be br...

Drama

Vermillion

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I stared down into the porcelain tub, dotted with vermillion shapes: circles, squares, triangles; even an octagon I tried hard to sketch into the base. The contrast of the white and the red was striking. At least, I hoped so.

My clients stood, one at each side, looking down with me. One, an older man with a neatly-trimmed beard, sniffled and wiped his nose. The other, a young woman with a vegan ...

Horror

Grief

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

“Let’s put these away,” my mother said, closing the photo album and placing it in the box. Her hands were shaking.

“Can we see just a few more? It’s fun!” My little sister asked, smiling.

Her smile faded as my mother shiver the box under the bed and stood, flattening her skirt with her hands and shaking her head.

“Why not?” My little brother asked, standing at her knee height. “I want to see...

Drama

Nice, Family Place

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I watched the two of them as they walked away, hands tucked around each other. Her hair flowed lightly in the winter wind; his coat was black and drawn tightly against his skin. The presents they just bought were wrapped in a small, white bag. I wondered who would receive them, knowing it wasn’t me.

Of course it wasn’t me; why would it be? They didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them. But I yearn...

Drama

Tunneling

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

I swat at my ear, batting the mosquito away. The little bug has been at me all night, in and out, tickling me. I sigh and turn, pulling a pillow over my head, but somehow it creeps deep in there, too, and continues buzzing. The trees sway in the wind outside, sounding like a thousand whispers. A dark sky promises rain for tomorrow. Beneath the stars, in the tent on the campground, I’m reminded why...

Horror