Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to nocturnal transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that brings you dark tales both old and new,

performed by voice artist Kristen Holland.

Well, it's been a long time between drinks, as they say.

Have you missed us?

I can assure you that for our part we are absolutely champing at the proverbial to resume whispering dark nothings into your ear.

That being the case, let's forego my usual waffling and reward your patience by getting straight into a story.

After all, that's what we're here for, right, gentle listener?

Our first dark nothing of 2019 is a breezy, charming tale of familial bliss.

Honestly, nocturnal transmissions is proud to present Gary McMarns.

My boy builds coffins.

Part One Part 1

Susan found the first one

when she was tidying his room.

Chris was at school and she'd been sprucing up the house before popping off to collect him after the afternoon session.

The ground floor was done. The lounge was spick and span, as her mother had loved to say,

and the kitchen was so clean it belonged in a show home. The downstairs bathroom was clean enough for a royal inspection.

The onsuit would do, she supposed, and her and Dan's

bedroom was the best it could be, considering they both liked to dump their dirty clothes all over

the floor and the furniture. Now it was time to tackle Chris's room, which was about as messy as any eight-year-old could

hope to achieve.

She pushed open the door, holding her breath, and walked into the chaos.

His blow-up punch bag had been moved into the centre of the room and left there.

...