‘Playdate’ by Patrick Barb

New Normal

In Pulp Literature Issue 46, ‘Playdate’ by Patrick Barb challenges us to confront a familiar source of horror. Enjoy an excerpt of this story below, and be sure to read the rest in Issue 46, Spring 2025.

Playdate

by Patrick Barb

The new boy ran inside the house, a kindergartener-sized blur of wild hair and limbs round with baby fat, moving too fast for Celeste to see who it was as he beelined down the hallway to her son Joshua’s room. It was as if the phantom child had visited before—and had the layout of Celeste and Joshua’s home committed to memory.

In contrast, the new boy’s mother took her time, walking down the cement path, ascending the porch steps one after the other, gripping the black iron railing.

Her fingers were too long, too skinny.

Her smile reached Celeste before she’d made it to the door. “Well, hello there, Mommy,” she said, applying the same cheery intonation as the postnatal nurses after Celeste’s labour with Joshua had ended.

This new mother grinned, stretching hot pink lips that barely contained too many teeth. One of her eyes seemed bigger than the other. Too big. Almost bulging from its socket. But when Celeste blinked, those strange features receded as if they were never there.

The new boy’s mother was fine. Normal.

She looked like any other mother. She almost looked like Celeste.

Determined not to seem flustered in front of a stranger, Celeste introduced herself with a practised business-lunch smile.

The new boy’s mother shook her hand then crossed the threshold into the house. She kept her grip tight, pushing Celeste back as she stepped forward. Not forceful enough to offend. Just enough so it was as if Celeste had pulled the woman inside her home.

“My little one’s told me so much about you,” the new boy’s mother said. She reached back and pulled the front door closed behind her, cutting them off from the world outside.

Just a silly figment of my imagination, Celeste thought. She kept her smile in place. This is what mothers do, right? We keep smiling when someone’s looking, even when it doesn’t make any sense.

Find the full story in Pulp Literature Issue 46, Spring 2025

Patrick Barb is an author of weird, dark, and spooky tales. He is currently living (and trying not to freeze to death) in Saint Paul, Minnesota. His published works include the dark fiction collections The Children’s Horror and Pre-Approved for Haunting, the novellas Gargantuana’s Ghost, Turn, and JK-LOL, as well as the novelette Helicopter Parenting in the Age of Drone Warfare. He is the editor and publisher of the anthology And One Day We Will Die: Strange Stories Inspired by the Music of Neutral Milk Hotel.