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By Stephen King, Charles L. Grant

To do an anthology, to fill it with the kinds of reports its premise dictates, there need to be principles. ideas for size, for type, for content material. yet one of many nicest issues approximately being an editor is: because you made up the foundations within the first position, you can even holiday them while the get together warrants. hence, I've set myself opposed to the conventional in darkish fable fiction (vampires, werewolves, and so forth), opposed to together with technological know-how fiction, humor, and poetry, and opposed to settings except the contemporary.

This quantity breaks virtually each of my ideas. And the easiest half approximately that's, so long as you and that i, as readers, benefit from the choices, who cares? and luxuriate in I belief you'll. might be no longer all, because all of us range in tastes, yet sufficient in order that the name of this sequence keeps to work—if now not in your mind's eye, then at the least in your dreams.

Charles L. Grant
Budd Lake, New Jersey
1980

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She scarcely considered Philip now; it was once Harold she dreamed of, mourned, and longed to determine back. simply because she couldn't spend all her time within the cemetery, Corey persevered to wander via her day-by-day regimen, yet her brain used to be in different places. progressively she accustomed herself to the belief of Harold's death—perhaps he used to be , he had escaped the lifestyles that had made him so unsatisfied. She mourned for herself, now, for her personal loneliness. at the final evening of October, sitting by myself in her small condo, a bowl of soup quickly cooling in entrance of her, Corey felt her grief turning to anger. The resentment should have been smoldering underneath the sorrow all alongside. How might he kill himself like that? With all his speak of desire, he should have recognized how she wanted him, and discovered what he will be doing to her by means of killing himself. If she had betrayed him, his betrayal of her were a long way larger, since it was once ceaselessly. it could actually no longer be recalled or apologized for. He had taken himself out of lifestyles, and out of her existence, forever. "What approximately me? " she acknowledged aloud. The tears rolled slowly down her face. It used to be Halloween evening. humans have been out having a great time with their buddies, attending events far and wide campus. And Corey sat on my own, speaking to a useless guy. "I wanted you," she acknowledged. "Did you consider that? could not you will have waited a bit longer? Or were not my wishes as vital as yours? o.k.; I wasn't there for you on Saturday, yet i might have get back, you will have identified that. yet you cannot come back—no subject how a lot i want you, you are going to by no means come to me back. " She went to mattress early simply because there has been not anything else to do, yet she lay unsleeping many years. And while she did eventually nod off, it appeared just a couple of mins ahead of whatever woke her. She lay at nighttime and listened. She may well pay attention a person relocating approximately downstairs, and idea now that the sound which had awakened her were the slamming of front door. most likely one in every of her pals coming domestic under the influence of alcohol from a celebration. Whoever it used to be used to be creating a very noisy activity of mountaineering the steps; as well as the gradual, heavy footfalls, Corey might pay attention a smooth, erratic thump-and-slide sound, as though the climber needed to aid himself opposed to the wall as he climbed. there has been anything oddly anxious concerning the sound. She was once unsleeping now, and she or he lay stiffly anticipating the noisy intruder to arrive his journey's finish. Silence—the best of the steps reached finally. Then extra dragging footsteps. Then a thumping at her door. She sat up in mattress, clutching the covers. The pounding endured. "No! " she cried. Then, feeling fearful and embarrassed (it used to be most likely just a inebriated who had made a mistake), she bought off the bed and walked in the course of the darkish into the lounge and referred to as, "You've obtained the inaccurate condo; you are around the corridor. try out the opposite door! " She waited for the sounds of departure, but if the pounding stopped there has been not anything, and the silence ate at her nerves. Then the pounding started back, nonetheless at her door. It used to be no longer forceful in any respect, yet neither used to be it managed sufficient to be known as knocking.

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