Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Ashes to Ashes
The Captain’s “medical leave” was suspicious with a feel of relief and suspicion. John’s gratitude rush was a well-deserved break from the suffocating case and an opportunity for him to clear his head. However, he still felt some lingering doubts inside of him. Was this actually about his welfare or just a smart way of keeping him at arm’s length as they carried on with their investigations?
I am a lost sock seeking my sole mate. Swirling around in the wet tumble weed of denim and old clothes, waiting to be reunited with my other half. I am hopelessly stuck in a rotational conundrum...
The Ragged Man
"Burn her!" The mob were shouting as Carys was brought to the pyre. The ragged man watched from the cover of the building. Carys looked demure, resigned.
Looking in the mirror, all I noticed was my flawed skin. Bumps and scars. Discolored. Pale. Gaunt - Unrecognizable. I re-covered the surface with the towel at once.
Keeping You Awake
You've drunk your Sleepytime Tea. The dishwasher is running. Pajamas are on. Teeth have been brushed. Face, washed. Pills, swallowed. Cat, fed.
Quick and Cold
I sat on the edge of the hard couch, the paper towel sticking to my bare bottom. The flimsy gown barely covered my nakedness. I bit my lip and fidgeted. The doctor's voice droned on. I caught words like "outpatient", "very quick", "routine", "after care". She pointed to her clipboard, going through the list of side effects and risks.
Floating out of the grey of the early dawn he had come. A phantom. A spectre. Lone and undeterred, unerring in his way, hailed by the blood song no mortal ear could hear. Down from the mountains came the misty white. It strode like ghosts through the wood, tiptoed over the sodden earth into the meadow and wreathed him who should not be.
The door slammed shut. The entire ark shuddered as the massive bolts slid into place. Silence filled the entryway. The hammering resounding oppressive silence of separation from mother earth. I stared at the gun in my hand, how many had I killed? The chaos at the door, the last surge of humanity, crushing to board. They could not all fit. They would not all fit, I made sure of that.
Sicily | 1943 Peering out of a pair of double glass doors, Rosalie took in the marvelous view of Canicatti’s rolling, emerald knolls, and the town’s vast array of sandstone, clay, marble, and brick structures ranging as far back as the fourteen-hundreds. Corrado paced back and forth, unimpressed with the view, and more concerned with their wrongful imprisonment.
With Sharp Teeth and Claws
I peer out into the darkness. This should be my time, but I'm paralyzed with fear. I can see across the floor to the open closet. The monster there has long tentacles and too many eyes. I catch his gaze expectantly, and he slowly shuts the closet door. There will be no help from him tonight.
Lola’s steps were heavy as she trudged along the grey pavement. Her dull eyes cast downward avoiding contact as much as she could. It was relatively easy here in the inane bustle of the city, hidden amongst the crowd she did not have to concern herself with anyone noticing her. But still she hated it, the walk home from the library. The sounds were overwhelming -she felt them drilling into her mind. The all-encompassing screech of car tyres, the squeaky insiduous chalk board scrape of snipped conversations and the incessant beep. Beep. Beep. The recurring death of the traffic light crossing drowned her in noise. Noise everywhere she turned. Noise. Noise.
A rat in the cage.
Written for the Telltale crimson trail by Ray Taylor. Part of his challenge is to write a micro fiction continuation in exactly 250 words for the story he started. Join in on the fun! Details below. If you haven't read his series, my entry will make little sense. Catch up here!