Caitlin McColl
Stories (137/0)
- Top Story - September 2021
Comprehending the IncomprehensibleTop Story - September 2021
I recently learned of the tragic passing of one of Vocal’s very own beloved creators Tom Bradbury. I’m sure many of you who are in the various Vocal Facebook groups are also aware of the tragedy befalling Tom’s home in rural France to a violent fire in which a victim was recovered. I’m not going to go into anymore because trauma does not need to be re-trodden. Suffice it to say, tragedy can be difficult, or seem almost impossible, to wrap your head around.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Psyche
Radio Silence - Part 13
It took Joe two full days to realize what was wrong. It wasn’t the fact that Melanie had abandoned him. It wasn’t that the whole country seemed devoid of life besides him. It wasn’t that he was alone, and had started to talk to himself for company. It was the silence. There was no music, no radio to keep him company. Radio had been a staple for so long in his life. It was his job, every day, but it kept him company outside of work. He listened to it while driving everywhere, and even listened to it on his phone when he was walking.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction
There Are Things In The Well
Author's Note: This short story doesn't have a nice tidy ending but instead is open ended. It's also the shortest of all my short dark flash fiction pieces so far and is very fantasy/horror-esque and pretty surreal. If that's not your thing, feel free to read something else! ~ C
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction
Radio Silence - Part 12
“Now this is more like it,” Joe said out loud, though quietly. He glanced quickly into a field, and then away again. It wasn’t something he wanted to have etched in his memory, but he could tell, even from the quick look, that the large pile in the middle of the field was bodies. Bodies that had, thankfully, been burned into something only vaguely recognizable as human. “This is what I thought it would be like. The end of the world. The apocalypse. It would be me, and…well, just me. Me and cars that are full of people still, even now.” He shuddered. “People that died as they were driving.” He said, as if he were explaining the situation to someone else that had no idea. He gave a wide berth to just such a car that had swerved off the edge of the road into the wide ditch at the side that bordered the wood and barbed wire fence that surrounded the dry, dead grass field. The back end of the car was sticking up in the air, its wheels off the ground. He was about to snake around the trunk when a thought occurred to him and he stopped. He pounded the trunk with a fist and then tried to pull it open. He grunted. It didn’t budge.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction
Merciful Beast
Merciful beast. That’s the definition of an oxymoron if you ever thought one. A beast is the total opposite of merciful. They are savage and relentless. They are machines created to survive. Survival of the fittest in a harsh, unforgiving world. They aren’t compassionate. They don’t give a second thought to anyone besides themselves. Sounds like a lot of humans I know, actually, which is scary when you think about it. I say humans, and not people because I’m not one of them. I’m not human. Not anymore anyway.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction
Radio Silence - Part 11
Richard stopped to watch the flames in the fireplace dance. “I wish I had someone help me get my mistake back in the jar,” he whispered softly, even though there was no one around to hear, except maybe a man with a long beard high above the mess he had made of everything.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction
Radio Silence - Part 10
PANDORA’S STORY It was an unassuming jar, a plain earthenware jug that came up almost to her hip, sealed with a plug of red wax, drips staining the lip of the container. She lifted the heavy lid, exposing the wax, and tapped it with one long fingernail.
By Caitlin McColl3 years ago in Fiction