“If you’re out there,” Mickey said, voice cracking through the static, “this is 98.7 The Blaze. The airwaves are still open. I’m still here. You’re not alone.”

The studio smelled like mildew and old vinyl. His only listener was a dog named Joplin, and maybe—just maybe—the cowboy with burning eyes who kept showing up in his dreams.

Outside, the crows circled over Gainesville. The I-75 was a graveyard of cars and silence. But Mickey?

He kept talking.

Because someone had to.

What if your thoughts weren’t just yours anymore? In Next-Day Delivery, a man’s life unravels when packages start arriving on his doorstep—items he never ordered but definitely thought about. Slippers. Childhood mementos. A tooth. Each box digs deeper into memories he’d rather forget, until it becomes clear: something is inside his head, rewriting reality one delivery at a time. Creepy, surreal, and disturbingly plausible, this horror story peels back the packaging on convenience culture and exposes the cost of always being connected. Because when your past is prime-shipped to your door, what shows up next might just be you.

In the waning light of a Civil War field hospital, an eighteen-year-old steward with no medical training is thrust into the heart of suffering. But as night falls, it’s not just the dying who fill the tent. Figures begin to appear—quiet, familiar, impossible. Some are mothers. Others are brothers. Grandparents. Friends. All long dead. All come searching for the ones they lost. And only he can see them.

A haunting, human ghost story about death, duty, and the quiet mercy of not dying alone.