Afflictions of the New Age
ShortStory 4,280 words Recommended by 1 award/anthology source
"It slips, now—I know it slips. There are men in my parlor, in uniforms, crisp navy, badged. Police. Beyond them Eveline wavers in a yellow nightgown, hands clasped to her chest, eyes wide and worried—no, no, she doesn’t, she’s not here, I’m dreaming her, I’m dreaming. Where is Eveline? Why are these men in my parlor?"
Content warnings 3
deathmental-illnesssuicide
Quasar links out; the story lives on Uncanny, where the author gets the click.