Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Finding Us
Robert, upset by the flight delay but thankful he’d forgotten his wallet at the hotel on the day of the accident, decided to look for a place to buy a cell phone at the airport. John, always the planner, told Robert that he always kept a card in his wallet with a list of important phone numbers whenever he travelled. He said that Robert should do the same, just in case something bad ever happened. Robert was thankful that he took John's advice when he arrived at Hong Kong airport. When he first found out about the delay, he tried using a payphone to call Maryanne. He tried several times, but the calls kept dropping before he could get through.
By Gerald Holmes3 years ago in Fiction
There's One Just Like it Everywhere
"Tell me a story, stranger." The guy on the opposite stool was a typical weekday drunk, full of good humor at the pain of others and caustic remarks at nothing at all. That he was polite to me was an oddity; perhaps he sensed that I was different, that I was less tethered to this place and its vices than those of his usual company.
By Andrew Johnston3 years ago in Fiction
Maggie and the Selkie
That morning the bodies were counted. Twelve in all, and one still missing. Hamish. When the families took the bodies home to prepare them for burial, Maggie sneaked down to the beach to walk the shoreline. Five miles north, and five miles south. Through her tears, every piece of driftwood and kelp was a human figure; an arm reaching for help, a crumpled body found too late. Maggie’s hope disappeared with the sun and a low, slow groaning emerged from her throat as she sank to the sand. The pain in her heart was so strong she didn’t notice the water rising around her, the cold seeping into her skin.
By Heather Ewings3 years ago in Fiction
The Man On The Train
Tap, tap, tap... The tapping was constant and annoying. Somehow it rose above all the chatter and clanking and rustling of the usual noise of the morning commuter train. She sat a bit straighter in her usual seat. A window seat with her briefcase placed on the empty seat next to her, looking at no one, speaking to no one. She always sat at the same seat on the same train 5 days a week to work and back,
By Susan Lewis3 years ago in Fiction
In the Cage of a Dream's Lament
It was the perfect life. Trella lived for the moments when she stood in a ballroom, hushed voices rising over the music that provided an ambiance absent from ordinary life. Even when she was not dancing, she liked to close her eyes and just bask in the soft percussion and the trill of a violin. And, no matter how much she wandered or frolicked among the gathered guests, her feet never ached.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Fiction
Raven's Sacrifice
Once Raven was white, from the tip of her beak to the tip of her tail and the points of her claws. Though she was a bird of the earth, her pale colouring meant she could mingle with the spirits of the heavens; the angels and daemons of the bright, bright skies; those from whose lips poetry sprang, and whose songs carried a beauty so exquisite all who heard them wept. Raven spent many a day and night with these beings, watching as they drank the sparkling waters from the Well of Inspiration, listening as they gave voice to their creations. Sometimes she joined with them, for hers was a sweet song, and many stopped to hear her music.
By Heather Ewings3 years ago in Fiction
Weathered
I ran inside with mascara and eyeliner smeared down my face. “Get in the basement!” I yelled to Edgar, my husband of 30 years. He looked confused as he began to ask what was wrong. “Edgar, there’s no time. Get in the basement or you will die!” Edgar considered my words for a moment before deciding to listen to me. I don’t think I’d ever seen him run before, but he was running now.
By Brandy Enn3 years ago in Fiction
Lotus coming out of crystal-clear water
Once chatting with my old classmates, he said: "Looking at these greasy women around me reminds me of Tan Wenke's classmates. She is really a lotus in clear water." I can't help but sigh that this male student's words are really appropriate. "Lotus comes out of clear water" is often used by trendy love novels or small fresh meat to express the highest praise for girls. Such an abstract word falls into reality, only Tan Wenke.
By Gottlieb Lyle3 years ago in Fiction