Short Story
Last Call, Sally. . Runner-Up in Last Call Challenge. Top Story - August 2026.
The bar had quieted down as a woman in her 40's toyed with the drink in her hand. She spun the black straw counterclockwise, watching the ice rotate in a clunky circle. She laughed slightly as it stirred up a memory of when she was a child. She desperately wanted to do magic. She would try so hard to move the spoon in her chalky, Nesquick chocolate milk with her mind.
By Analesia Giammusso24 days ago in Fiction
Last Call Home
All night, Andrew had dreamt of his childhood home. The dream version wasn’t accurate, of course; there’d been more rooms than there should have been, or ever could have been, in the modest terrace house, and his bedroom window had offered views far more panoramic than the messy back gardens of the suburban enclave where he’d been born. But in every dream he’d felt safe and worry-free. It was as if the dream had been tucked around him like a soft blanket, cocooning him from reality and all the grief and misery that came with it.
By Matthew Batham25 days ago in Fiction
Four Minutes of Fire
Daniel Reyes goes out every evening at the same hour, the one when the sun drops low enough that the water forgets it's water and starts looking like fire. The men at the marina call him the grouper hunter, though nobody has ever seen him bring one home. Two rods stand upright in their holders behind his seat, lines slack, hooks bare. Between his knees sits a dry bag, and in the dry bag sits a flask, and by the time he clears the buoys it's usually half gone.
By Diane Foster25 days ago in Fiction
Deadly Last Call
The neon sign outside The Final Pour, a bar located in Hartford, flickered like a dying heartbeat, casting red shadows across the rain-slicked sidewalk. Detective Lena Vargas pushed through the door just after midnight, the air thick with the ghosts of spilled whiskey and cigarette smoke that never quite left the place. The bar was empty now, chairs upturned on tables, the jukebox silent. Only the body remained, sprawled behind the counter in a pool of dark blood that had already begun to congeal.
By Clyde E. Dawkins25 days ago in Fiction
Twisted Fate
His letter was clear, filled with deceit and his final mandate. She had one hour to decide, but she knew the decision was already made for her. How could fate be so cruel? Katriona crumpled the note in her hand and watched it roll across the ancient wooden floor.
By KA Stefana 25 days ago in Fiction
Calling to the Wind. Runner-Up in Last Call Challenge.
It had been days since he had been missing. His friends had come back but he hadn't. She'd had her reservations about letting him go but her husband had said, "Don't worry! He's a sensible kid! He'll be fine!" and she'd heard the words and accepted them, although she hadn't believed them, not in the deep of her, in her womb where he had been conceived, in her maternal instinct. She'd been wary and it was that instinct which now prodded her with spasms of nerves that jerked her into guilt and reminded her that something was very wrong.
By Rachel Deeming26 days ago in Fiction
Steam on an Empty Cup
Last time we met, you didn't recognize me at all. You were sitting in your car then, looking out through the windshield, your gaze sweeping straight over me, completely treating me like a stranger stopping people on the roadside to hand out flyers. I stood outside the car, called your name twice in a row, before you slowly turned your head and finally noticed me.
By Diane Foster26 days ago in Fiction
Ego Sum Pt. 3
Read Pt. 2 Here Marion was stopped as he stepped into work, being given a slip of paper as soon as his feet crossed into the building. Shannon didn’t say a single word as she passed over the paper, not even smiling at him. Her face was terribly blank, nothing being her eyes - just a deep, dark abyss.
By caitodoesstuff26 days ago in Fiction
