Every collection of horror must have a magic shop story. This tale tips its hat to Creepy Magazine and the classic horror comics from EC Comics.
Pimm's Body Shop
Russ Crossley
The sun had set by the time I stepped out of the driving rain into the dingy, poorly lit shop on NW 2nd Avenue in Old Town. With trembling fingers cramped by cold, I reached into my jacket pocket for the card the warden had handed me before I left state prison to confirm this was the correct address. My eyes moved over the plain white card. Pimm's, Northwest second in navy blue lettering. This was the place, all right. I shoved the damp card back in my jacket pocket.
Released only two days ago, I was intent on my reintegration into society by seeking gainful employment. At least that's what it said in the pamphle
