K. Marvin Bruce

  The eerie feeling of that night in Boston for the American Academy of Religion meeting settled over the library.   The mystery of possibility hung like an invisible fog in the room.   Parker Yaffle had been one of the most respected Harvard scholars ever, right up there with William James.   This uncredentialed, independently wealthy man had a private academic arrangement with Yaffle, earning the equivalent of a doctorate from him.   Terah had often spied Yaffle at a distance at the Academy conference.   He was always surrounded by the big names in the field and it was impossible to get close enough to introduce yourself.   Terah had been snubbed by lesser academics who thought highly of themselves, and once, when the meeting was held in a rainy Chicago, he was standing outside the McCormick center for a moment when Yaffle had come out without a gaggle of followers.   He’d held out a hand to introduce himself, but the academic lackeys quickly ap...

  “What’s matter made of?” “Atoms.   Protons, neutrons, electrons.” “And what are they made of?” “Well, the protons and neutrons are made of quarks.   Electrons are energy.” “And what are quarks made of?” “Depends on the theory.” Calum nodded.   “String theory, which looks pretty promising, says energy.   Strings of vibrating energy.   If that’s correct, everything is energy.” “I’m with you.” “There are many sources of energy, of course.   Fossil fuels, natural processes like winds and waves, solar and nuclear.   All of them derive from the sun, ultimately.   All living beings require energy.   We get it from eating.   We expend it by exercising.   I’m sure Lindsey won’t mind if I discuss sexual energy.” Terah flushed and put his hand to his face.   He was glad he’d decided not to shave his beard. “The orgone, or life force, was first explored by Wilhelm Reich in the 1930s.   The main work was carried on by his studen...

  The aliens in his room had to have been hypnagogic hallucinations.   Terah would say nothing about them.   He couldn’t even envision himself mouthing the words.   Long years of doling out the ridicule response to the idea didn’t dissipate, even when he himself had experienced their presence.   Already his observation of the wee people in the woods had evolved to a lucid dream state brought on by deprivation.   The supernatural wasn’t real. “So what do you know about this pandemic?”   It seemed a safer topic. “It’s a new strain of the Spanish Influenza.   There’s no vaccine yet.   Some are classifying it as a ‘superbug’ because it evolves so fast.   The belief in isolationism kept many Americans from thinking it could spread here, but inevitably it did.   Now, slowly, they’ve begun to take measures to isolate individuals.   You’ve been avoiding populations at the right time, it seems.” “Doesn’t the science involved here compli...

  “My name is Calum Nymet.   All of this,” he motioned around him, “was made possible by the good luck of being in the correct place at a fortuitous time.   No, I was not to the manor born.   In fact, I was reared in humble circumstances and worked my way through an education.   Being a commodities trader was only a day job, although a very lucrative one.   I was able to retire by forty-five and begun following my real passion, which was truly tapping human potential.   Perhaps you’ve heard of Esalen? “No matter.   Human potential doesn’t dismiss science, but it does not accept scientism.   Science, you see, is a method of learning about the world.   It’s extremely effective.   The human brain, however, has evolved, like all animal brains, for survival, not for finding all the answers.   Think of it—our species has survived by reasoning based on our five senses.   Those senses pick up stimuli that help us avoid danger and ...

My latest publication, “Glass-Walled Cabin” has appeared on The WiFiles.   As is my custom, I devote a post to the story to share with readers what went into the writing process. The WiFiles publishes fiction with a paranormal bent.  That fits the horror genre particularly well since few people take sasquatch seriously.  To write a story like this, however, requires some first-hand experience.  At least in my case it does. Many years ago I went to visit a forest ranger fire spotter in a lonely observation tower in the northwest United States.  Most people are aware that the western part of this country suffers from perpetual drought, making the mountains, especially in summer, a potential tinderbox.  The fire spotter had to live in this glass-walled cabin for four months at a stretch.  Short visits were okay, but long-term guests would be a distraction. Climbing to the tower meant hiking to the top of one of the tallest peaks in the area....