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eBook Category: Horror
eBook Description: It's Daylight Savings Time. Everyone has turned their clocks an hour. But not a psychotic named "The Watcher." He wants that hour of his life back. And he's determined to steal it back from the life of an innocent man he's tied up in his hotel room. [The Year's Best Horror Stories XX Reprint--Karl Edward Wagner] [Recommended Reading--Year's Best Fantasy & Horror (Datlow/Windling)]

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Palace Corbie 2, 1992
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2002

27 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [64 KB], eReader (PDB) [29 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [15 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [14 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [65 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [86 KB], hiebook (KML) [64 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [42 KB], iSilo (PDB) [13 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [16 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [44 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [24 KB]
Words: 4803
Reading time: 13-19 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Michael Arnzen's story, "Spring Ahead, Fall Back," is a great piece of suspenseful terror that gripped me from beginning to end. And such a clever ending! I can't begin to tell you how often I've cruised through a fantastic story only to be disappointed by a weak or contrived ending ... or even worse, no ending. Arnzen is one hell of a writer who knows how to write memorable endings, which is no small feat, and he has started me looking for more of his work."--Random Realities

I could see the Arch on the horizon--the lights of St. Louis appeared to be captured by its thin silhouette, a black rainbow that loomed over the night. The curving architecture was comforting--like the welcoming hips of a woman after a non-stop coast-to-coast route. My feet hurt--the patent leather shoes that were part-and-parcel with the silly bus drivers' uniform cut into the soft tissues around my ankles--but I managed to give the gas pedal a little extra weight to push us closer to the city, closer to the "Gateway to the West." Checking my watch, I realized that we'd make it with plenty of time to spare.

I looked up into the long rear-view, to check out the passengers. Most were snoozing, some were looking blandly at the approaching city. And The Watcher was there, too, as alert as ever, and meeting my gaze in the mirror.

I call him The Watcher because that's all he did: watched. He watched the way I jiggled in neutral while shifting the gears, the way I used two hands to steer--even just to change lanes. He watched the way I tipped my hat up before turning up the A/C when it was getting hot in

the bus. And he watched me, too--studying not only my work, but my face. As if he recognized me. As if I were parent and teacher all wrapped up into one man.

And those red eyes of his--glaring, staring, burning into my own whenever I looked in the mirror. Trying to get my attention for some reason or another. He was like one of those kids who stared at construction workers or fire trucks, though he was much older than any child. In his forties, I'd guess. White, pale white, with blue eyes and dark wrinkles across his forehead like something from a cartoon. His hair was one big squiggle of black-turning-gray, a twisting greasy tuft that stuck out in the center of his bald, shining head. He looked, again, like a cartoon--

like that Charlie Brown character--except less innocent and child-like. Almost evil. Ol' Chuck ... with some serious mental problems.