Fiction: Giant Monkeys Eat Children
Well I want a better place, or just a better way to fall
Today we have another short story from my alter-ego John Keel. See also his story “The Conversion of Paul Kaufman.”
There are giant monkeys down by the beach and they eat children.
Four monkeys, each twelve or fifteen feet tall, sitting in a circle with their backs to one another like soldiers forming a square on some old battlefield. They’re all godawful bright colors, blue and red and green. The one facing me is rain-slicker yellow loud enough to deafen you, his hide so glossy it shines in the moonlight. You can see the crescent of the moon itself reflected in the big black pupils of eyes the size of hubcaps; eyes that bulge in a wild, unblinking stare to complement the maniacal grin frozen on his flat monkey face.