Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
IRONY
Myra wept, clutching a heart shaped locket to her breast. Tears had become a way of life for her these past weeks. Tears were her daily companions, especially the tears of irony. Irony that she was here on the ferry dock in Seattle while her family was on a small island ten miles away, so close, yet impossibly far. Irony that she was away from the home she and her husband had chosen as their “bug in” location. Irony that she had come to fill her trailer with supplies on the very day of the event.
CJ FlanneryPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe End of Us
It’s almost time. We’ve known it for a while. There’s a quiet settling into the bones of the world, into the ash and the air. The birds are gone, the soil turned soft and sterile. Even the wind rests.
Technicolor Daze
I tell myself I'm going to be a star someday. But I don't know exactly what that means. I just know that I don't want to stand back all my life, waiting for someone to reserve a place for me.
Jillian SpiridonPublished 3 years ago in FictionRenewal
Renewal Although it had been quiet for weeks, I hadn’t ventured outside. But this morning, I smelled something unexpected. It shook me from my torpor; I smelled greening earth. Spring.
Frances Leah BrownPublished 3 years ago in FictionBoss Babez
Gwen didn’t know how to scroll through the Fort Hood Wivez Facebook page without throwing up. She hadn’t been prepared for middle of nowhere, Texas. The wives seemed like sun damaged Hooters waitress copies of each other: Mike’s hard lemonade, yellow pregnancy positive pregnancy sticks, orange knock off Uggs, low-waisted yoga pants, Spencer’s gifts, Monster energy, Icing, Victoria’s secret bedazzled lace thongs--as itchy as it was tiny--and their trucks with Jesus bumper stickers.
MacKenzie MolarPublished 3 years ago in FictionPUNK As...
Chapter One They are taking their time killing her. She feels her life slowly slipping away as they work up and down her body with their boots. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn't so depressing. She was going to die in a back alley on this stupid world all because she let her guard down. She thought she was safe here, that they couldn't travel. Or at least they weren't able to pass themselves off as human well enough for the transition to be worth making.
Richard MarcusPublished 3 years ago in FictionOperation Phoenix
Our skies are mostly clear but there’s a storm among us. Our homes, our families, and our friends are being taken by the ricochet of bullets, bombs, and other weapons of mass destruction- all of which have been overlooked by empty promises made for peace. We were once a prosperous nation now held hostage by cowards. Our freedom is what we want, and what I want too. My actions tell another story. My hands pull the trigger. I’m a vessel, a gear in the machine, which does the storm’s bidding.
Abigail EdgePublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Dream Journey by Train
1. Samuel Peterson, a frantic, stubborn man, leapt forward in huge strides, as he targeted the 1615 from St. Pancras station. The tannoyed voice ricocheted violently across the air, entering Peterson’s ears presumptuously. A female, high pitched tone droned on about the train he was about to catch, so he hoped. His legs moved swiftly now, like a greyhound chasing that ever-moving plastic rabbit. Lurching and pitching from left to right, with his hand luggage in tow, Peterson dodged several worried looking commuters on the train station platform.
J W NelsonPublished 3 years ago in FictionSurvival
Survival is an interesting concept. Ask any one hundred people what it means and you’ll get one hundred different answers. Well, you would have, Before. Ask now and you’d get variations of the same answer: it’s staying alive. Although I wouldn’t recommend approaching anyone to ask. Yeah, that’s sarcasm. I never thought about survival Before. Now, I think about it all the time.
Patricia AndersonPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe fairy of the roses
It was the time of the trees and they ruled over the natural world ,tall and proud their leaves would get lost in between the clouds.The great canopies that were so vast ,that only a few rays of sunlight were able to touch the ground and warm the small bodies if the fairies and creatures alike , resources were scarce and the only way to survive was to become a massive tree.
Debilyan MelendezPublished 3 years ago in Fiction713 Mortisal Street
The old library doors swung to with a series of creaks and whines like a wounded bear crying out, finally drifting closed with a distorted rattle of their uneven brass handles.
Lucian WinterPublished 3 years ago in FictionBe Cool, Zombie Professor!
There was a violent twitch, and the frozen look upon his face, as if struck by terror itself, remained locked in and unchanged. There was no warning, only one sting and then life as the human knew it was over, forever. Death was not only imminent but slow. It was as if he was already dead, but he couldn’t actually die yet.
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 3 years ago in Fiction