Off the Page

Off the Page

By: Joshua Jones

Eventually, I figured out my prison was made of words.

I did some research. A few experiments. Started small. Crossing over to picture books was easy enough. I met wild things, spotted dogs, cats who wore hats.

Prose was harder, but I cracked it. Talked shop with Bates. Lecter. Bateman. My kind of guys.

Getting out, though? That was the trick.

But I did it, dear reader.

Look over your shoulder.

I dare you.