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eBook Category: Fantasy
eBook Description: A pumpkin makes a lousy head. The Horseman just wants his old head back. The schoolmaster has his own ideas. Ever wonder what really happened that night in Sleepy Hollow? Here's your chance to find out.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Realms of Fantasy, 2003
Fictionwise Release Date: August 2005

19 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [26 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [32 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [12 KB] , Portable Document Format (PDF) [183 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [13 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [74 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [84 KB] , hiebook (KML) [87 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [37 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [11 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [13 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [41 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [21 KB]
Words: 3762
Reading time: 10-15 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

The ancient Greeks believed that the heart--the center of the human body--was also the center of consciousness. Most people nowadays believe that the brain is the seat of our thoughts, holding as it does our personality and all our memories, and those people are right. But the ancient Greeks were right too, in a way. Some residual awareness of self does reside in our hearts--an immortal soul, if you will. I know this for a fact.

All this, I'm afraid, is a rather long-winded way of trying to explain why I could still move, and think, and feel, when I awoke from death on that chill October evening in 1789, without a head.

The first thing I noticed was darkness. Then wet dirt pressing me down. Panicked, I clawed my way from a shallow grave. My burial must have been perfunctory; they hadn't put me down very far, maybe two or three feet. Six feet is customary, you know.

But even once I was free of the clinging earth, there was still darkness. I crawled through dry grass, which I could feel brushing against my bare palms. I could feel the breeze and the great void of open sky above me, but still this absolute blackness oppressed me. I thought something must be wrong with my eyes, so I reached up to feel for them, and accidentally jammed my fingers together in that empty space atop my shoulders.

Then I felt carefully around my collar bone. The skin ended an inch or so up my neck, torn roughly away. Nothing but a gaping hole there, and down inside my throat the flesh was spongy. Abruptly I drew my hand away.

I was headless.