"Just After Sunset"

I can honestly say that for the first time, I was bored reading Stephen King's short stories. Normally, his little fiction is reserved for his most acutely provocative work, the kind of stuff you race through, wondering how the next story could be any more bizarre or creepy or fascinating than the last. I've always thought of these stories as glimpses of his inner-workings that built the framework for his larger novels. But King mellowed--both stylistically and creatively--on Just After Sunset, and registered very little imagination for his readers to grab onto.