Barron's Best Buys [ OFFICIAL - COLLECTION ]

The neon sign for "Barron’s Best Buys" flickered over the cracked asphalt of Route 12, a humming beacon in the middle of the Nebraska flatlands. To the locals, it was just a dusty electronics graveyard. To the desperate, it was a place where you could find things that shouldn't exist.

One rainy midnight, Arthur gripped the knob and forced it clockwise, past the resistance. The machine screamed. The brass grew red-hot, searing his palm. barron's best buys

Arthur bolted for the door, the "Best Buy" clutched to his chest. He tumbled onto the lawn just as the windows of the kitchen blew outward in a bloom of orange fire. The neon sign for "Barron’s Best Buys" flickered

Arthur took the machine home. He sat in their quiet kitchen and turned the brass knob. At first, there was only static—the sound of wind and settling wood. Then, a ghost of a laugh. Her laugh. One rainy midnight, Arthur gripped the knob and

He wept, turning the dial further, chasing every "I love you" and every mundane "goodnight" hidden in the paint of their bedroom. But as the days passed, the past wasn't enough. He began to wonder about the "forward" Barron mentioned. If the walls knew what happened, did they know what was coming?

Through the static, he heard his own voice, terrified: "Get out of the house, Arthur! The gas—"

"One rule," Barron warned. "The dial only goes back. Don't try to force it forward to hear what hasn't happened yet. Some 'best buys' come with a price you can't pay in cash."