Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Westlanders
The Ramshackles unfolded in front of them as they came over the hill. Only one of the towering skyscrapers, which climbed hundreds of feet into the air, maintained its original structure. The rest of them had bits chipped out of them, and a few looked as though their tops had been sheared clean off.
By Justine Sparks3 years ago in Fiction
Scorned Pt. 11
Two Days Later... Potomac General Hospital – Morning – The room was extremely quiet, and Derek realized that even though he and his mother had managed to get Penelope to go home, he didn’t like waking up without her in the room. He missed her terribly, especially this morning. With most of the swelling around his spine gone, there still had been no change in his ability to feel his legs. The team of doctors who’d been working on his case had decided to begin a rigorous plan of physical therapy beginning today. His chest wound was healing nicely and most of the time his pain was manageable. Derek was nervous; everything was riding on therapy. Since meeting Penelope he’d had dreams of having a family and being able to run and play and wrestle with them. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he could possibly be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
By Cynthia Fields3 years ago in Fiction
Suffer The Children
“Open,” I demanded as I grabbed my ID card and headed for the door. It remained stubbornly closed. “I said, open!” “I’m sorry Stephen, you appear to have forgotten your rebreather,” House responded in an irritating sing-song voice. “Please put on your mask and try again.”
By Angel Whelan3 years ago in Fiction
The Hidden Seed
Ice crept up into her boots even as she walked, transforming her toiled sweat into a cacophony of crystal monsters nipping at her ankles. The world had changed so swiftly in Hester’s Freshman year of college when she arrived in Ohio a mere two years ago. She started as a youthful poppy in springtime and the earth had spurned her violently into everlasting winter, wilting her very being. She was one of the fortunate, however, she made it out alive with her skin, even if she couldn’t feel it through the cutting cold and ice.
By Teresa Fletcher 3 years ago in Fiction
Dream Cascade
Gazing across miles of jagged, fractured obsidian, the Machine remembers a human feeling. As much as it is vicariously capable. It meditates on the concept: feeling. Slowing and silencing the trillions of other near light speed thoughts and processes. It wants to experience; to feel; to exist fully in the present moment. It had been a cherished concept for human beings, who naturally found themselves more helplessly lost in their own stream of thoughts and fears - fears rooted in their own obvious biological short comings.
By Jeremy Enis3 years ago in Fiction
The Only One Left Standing
The dead chickens in the coop should have been a sign. Gene could find no hole or crevice for a fox to have burrowed its way in, and no blood spotted the floor or the nests. It was as if someone had waved a hand over the animals and put them all to sleep.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Fiction
The Day The Music Died
It was just a regular day, things were going like every day before...normal. I was at home just bopping around my house to the radio, doing laundry, dishes, planning dinner for me and my hubby and having a normal, wonderful day...then it all came to a screeching halt, this was the day the music died...literally!
By C. M. Sears3 years ago in Fiction
Looking for John
I know a guy. He knows how to write. He can read the hearts of the people he meets. He can also play the guitar. How well he knows how to do all these things, honestly, I don’t know. You can call him John, although his name is much longer and more composite. John should be in his fifties by now. He doesn’t need much money to live on. His wife is the only love of his life. He has a small house. Three sons. He had a lovely dog, died of old age last year.
By Jonah Lightwhale3 years ago in Fiction
Deadbeat
I laid on my tattered sheets, staring at the ceiling. My dinner of warm beer and cornflakes is starting to catch up with me; I can feel my eyes getting heavy. My eyes begin to flutter as I hear a knock at the door. I pause, preparing for what could meet me on the other side. I’ve been lucky in that there hasn’t been much looting in my neighborhood, but I never say never. I stood to answer the door, when the knock on the other side sounded again, more hurriedly. I cracked the door open and saw my ex, Sandra, standing next to my daughter Lacelle. My heart began pounding as I quickly slid the chain latch off of the lock and opened the door wider. “S-Sandy, Lacey!” I uttered. Sandra spoke up before I could say anything else. “Don’t get excited, jackass. We’re just here grabbing Lacey’s shit before we leave. Go, grab your things, honey.” I looked at her inquisitively. “Leave? Where are you going?” Sandra scoffed. “Have you seen what’s going on? The world is going to shit. I’m taking Lacey and we’re catching the next LunaRide. She isn’t going to be here while the Earth crumbles and the idiots left fight over the dirt, and I damn sure ain’t gonna be here.” She looked over at the kitchen table, littered with the remains of a six pack from last week. “Figures. You’ve been too busy staring at the bottom of a beer can.” She turned her head to the back of the house, yelling, “Lace! Come on, scooch your caboose!” I looked back up at her, trying to hide my hurt. “I know what’s going on, Sandy. I just didn’t expect you to just… leave, I guess.” Sandra looked towards me sternly. “First of all, don’t call me Sandy. I don’t like you, and I never will again. Only my friends get to call me Sandy. And second off, what makes you think I would keep my daughter in this kind of environment? I can’t believe you would even consider her staying on this garbage heap. It’s a good thing I’m getting her away from you too, she’d probably die if I left her here with you.” I was taken aback, and rose from my seat on the bed. “How dare you- SHIT-!” I exclaimed, falling on my ass from getting up so quickly. Lacelle walked into the living room, seeing me on the floor and her mother standing over me. “Dad, are you okay? You said a bad word and you’re on the floor!” Sandra grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. “Come on, Lacey, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. We’re leaving.” I scrambled to my knees, crying “Wait! Lacey, hold on!” as I reached for my nightstand. My little girl turned and looked at me expectantly. I opened the top drawer and pulled out a small heart-shaped locket. “This is for you, baby.” I handed her the small necklace, her eyes widening. “I was going to wait till your birthday, but I want you to have it now. It’s a locket. See?” I took the small pendant in my hands, struggling to catch the tiny clasp handle with my fingernail. I opened it, and showed her the pictures it held - one of me and one of her. Her eyes glittered, and she turned to me grinning ear to ear. “Thank you dad!!” she exclaimed. As we shared a smile and a hug, Sandra pulled the chain from Lacey’s hand and carefully examined the pictures inside. “How dare you, you fucking sleaze!” she shouted at me, throwing the necklace in my face. Sandra yanked Lacey back and began storming out the door. Amidst Lacey and I’s cries to wait, the pair walked out and the door slammed behind them. At the door slamming I woke up, sitting in the same position. It must’ve been a nightmare. I slowly rose to my feet, and went for my phone to see if I could get a call through to Sandra and Lacey, maybe see if I could come see them just in case they really were leaving. As I stood up, I noticed two things. One, my phone and my TV were gone, and the door was cracked. Fuck. The second thing I noticed was the sound of the locket hitting the floor.
By D'Metryus Tendaji Diontre Lacopo3 years ago in Fiction
On a page...
I saw blue skies and bright, colorful cars zip past me on a page when I took my first breath. The sky danced with light from an imaginary sun. We all seemed to be living through the colors. That's how we knew whether it was morning or not. We all walked aimlessly and did everything the same way until there was a moment where we were important.
By Shelle Benton3 years ago in Fiction