Short Story
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning. Top Story - April 2024.
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Librarian: The Custodian of Forgotten Wisdom.
The only background noise unaffected by all the events around was the monotonous hum of the air conditioner for Anya. Shuffling slowly through the deserted aisles of the Archive, she lightly played with the books' cold spines with her gloved hands. The archive wasn't a library in the conventional sense; instead, it was the digital mass of the Exodus, an inter-generational ship that carried the remainders of humankind. It was climate change that made life impossible on Earth and one lone librarian, Anya, became the custodian of all the knowledge and culture of a culture that no longer existed.
By Ishraq Ahmed Hashmi3 years ago in Fiction
Bear with me…
Tilly stops along the section of trail she’s hiking, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh mountain air. She can hardly believe she was finally here, living in Canada and so close to the Rocky Mountains. Well, close in Canadian terms, that is. It still took her over an hour’s drive to reach the trailhead.
By Heather Zieffle 3 years ago in Fiction
Frozen
It was warm when time stopped working. Eudosia remembered that, later. It was warm, and the air smelled like an intoxicating blend of jasmine and melting popsicle. She was laying, as usual, on her back and in her backyard, riffling her fingers across the overgrown grass and enjoying the particular way the sun pulsed behind the shifting leaves. And then time stopped. Everything stopped, all around her. The leaves stopped rustling. The breeze ceased breezing. The black ants froze their eternal march up to their nest and back again.
By Emily Finhill3 years ago in Fiction
Empyrean
The night sky bursts with sparks of pigment, swallowing up the stars with their light and dispersing into clouds of smoke. Onlookers cheer as the sky pops with explosions of celebratory bliss. Crystal glasses filled with fizzy liquid gold clink together as the newly married couple exchange a kiss. Lavish dresses and handsome suits cover the grounds of the manor, and the pungent scent of fresh flowers fill the air. The exchange of forced smiles is evident as guests dote on one another’s attire and remark on the grandiosity of the venue.
By Justine Seifert3 years ago in Fiction
Tortured Soul. Top Story - April 2024.
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler3 years ago in Fiction
