Short Story
The Reluctant Reporter. Top Story - April 2024. Content Warning.
"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
Eva's Last Cry
Eva cried out, “How could you? How could you do this to me again”? Tears flowed down her face like water from Niagara Falls. Tom dropped to his knees, grabbing at her pants leg and begging for one more chance. “Please Eva, you’re the only woman who owns my heart, my soul, my everything.” “You should’ve thought of that when her nails were clawing down your back, making sure I’d see the evidence of your unforgivable infidelity!” she cried.
By Sue McGaughey3 years ago in Fiction
All The World Loves A Clown. Top Story - April 2024. Content Warning.
She caught herself flinching as he passed behind her, dragging his fingertips across the fabric on her chair. Without the slightest touch, she closed her eyes and disappeared into a memory of the last time he HAD touched her. Her body bore the scars that were given to remind her exactly who was in charge.
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Fiction
Texas Bluebonnets
I strolled into the field of Texas bluebonnets and knew that not only had Spring come to Texas, but that I had come home, too. I had forgotten how beautiful they were, how incredibly, impossibly blue. Blue as the sky on a perfect summer’s day. Blue as his eyes.
By Laura DePace3 years ago in Fiction
The Christmas Party
“Good evening, I'm Muire Geoghan for RTÉ's general election results special coverage, and we can confirm at the current count the next government will most likely be formed by the recently created Christmas Party, led by... Santa Claus. Mr. Claus's birth name was originally David Quigley, but we will be referring to him by his legal name. I apologise for the confusion this may cause, a sentiment shared by our political correspondent, Brian O'Rourke. Brian, for everyone watching at home, can you please explain what just happened?”
By Conor Matthews3 years ago in Fiction
The Silent Chatter
John woke one rainy morning and discovered the writing in the floor. When his bare feet touched the cold concrete, he looked down to locate his slippers and saw the scribbles. They weren’t written on the floor but just below the surface, which was somehow part of the concrete. In sloppy cursive, they spread across the room then faded at the lamplight’s perimeter.
By C. L. Nichols3 years ago in Fiction
The One Hundred
"Why are we here? What do you want with us?" The Creator peered curiously into the glass globe infront of her, a benevolent presence in an otherwise bewildering situation. It was her world and she was its ruler. Like a mad professor in a lab., she could observe and analyse and alter and remove if she liked as she was the controller of the Globe and everything that lay therein.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
