Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Humans.
The Pocket
“Good morning, Billy!” “Hiya Erin.” Will smiled warmly to the barista as he walked into the coffee shop. He hated being called Billy, but for Erin he made an exception. He liked Erin, though he never told her.
The Observer
My client was fifty-two-year-old Jacob Sanderson, and he was divorcing his twenty-seven year old wife of five years. He came home early from a business trip to find her decked out in leather, flogging a man in a ball gag with a cat-o-nine tails. Sanderson was understandably shocked; his wife had never shown the slightest interest in BDSM in their bedroom. After sending the unfortunate and gagged subservient out into the night, an intrigued Sanderson suggested they explore the world of submissives together. She declined. Turned out, she was paying a wide variety of men to come in and submit to her somewhat painful fantasies. I found it funny that Sanderson was willing to forgive the tryst, as long as he could play, but he couldn’t forgive her for using his own money to cheat on him.
J MagnusonPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Empty Boat Down Ternham Way
I've always preferred running outdoors. It gives you the feeling of going somewhere, even if it's nowhere in particular. You secretly hope to discover something new. There's a canal that cuts through Ternham way. It's fringed by far reaching trees that seem to peer at their own liquid reflections when the water's still, even as they move with the breeze. The dirt path lining it was the perfect running route.
Nessy WriterPublished 3 years ago in HumansThese Secrets Aren't My Truth
When you suggest we peek through the cracked front door to make sure everything is okay, I pause. The cadence of your rushed syllables meets the gossamer from my icy sigh. We are almost home, I think, as I stand next to you on the sidewalk, parallel to a row of houses. Your eyes plead with me, a palpable urgency. I put my hands in my jacket, feel the alcohol warming my insides, release another sigh. It is late, the bar closed, and I want to go home.
Shelby NewsomePublished 3 years ago in HumansFish & Chips
I’m so desperate for a break from this muddy and uncertain Spring of 2021 that the drive to the Berkshires seems like a vacation all its own. I’m setting off in the morning to solve a minor mystery. In high school and college I worked at a restaurant. A tiny place, a dozen tables, and a robust takeout business. Fish and chips cooked to order, to the specifications of a long dead Irishman. An online review once described it as having great food, but looking like someplace out of Deliverance. They were not wrong. My memories of my teens and early 20s are all tied up in the place. Sneaking cigarettes out back between orders. A beer at closing. The inevitable dating of the hot dishwasher. And last week, someone went there to find me and leave me a message.
Alice DoorePublished 3 years ago in HumansA Chance
I sat at the end of my bed staring at the little black notebook. This book did not belong to me, or at least it hadn’t started out that way. Once you’ve stolen something, I feel like it becomes your property, right? Not that I steal often, actually, this is the first time I have ever done anything like this. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I first saw this notebook earlier today while walking downtown. I had been looking for the apartment number I was supposed to be delivering to. Being a pizza delivery driver in downtown Chicago, you gotta be careful. I always steer clear of trouble, I know if I mind my own business then others will mind theirs. So why hadn’t I done that today?
Sydney BlankenshipPublished 3 years ago in HumansEnglish teachers know best
Monday 13/3/19 11:00 pm. It’s been such a busy day, I feel like I haven’t stopped. I say that, but, I do always take time to write. Right now, it's 11 pm and I’m sitting in my bed, sinking into my pillows, I feel truly calm. In the spotlight of my reading light, it’s just me and my thoughts. There is something comforting about the darkness. However, looking at my flat now, the darkness is making it look much cleaner, so maybe that’s it. It never ceases to amaze me that, despite living in the heart of London, I still seem to get peace at night. Maybe that says more about me, but there is something undeniably special about the continuous murmur of the city, the yellow musky sky that, even in the midnight hours of the darkest winter nights, never seems to fully go to sleep – always retaining some colour and life. That could be the setting for my next book? No, stop, I need to get this one done first. Anyway, I NEED to go to bed.
Bonding Beyond the Grave
Bonding Beyond the Grave It sure as hell wasn’t going to be an average day when my father, whose been dead for five years, e-transferred me one million bucks. This was soon followed by a small black Moleskine (express delivery, nice) with the first page reading in bold magic marker, THIS MONEY IS NOT FOR YOU, BUDDY.
Sam NassarPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Butterfly and the Bee
The solicitor’s assistant has asked us to wait outside until we’re ready to begin. I check my watch. Already ten minutes late.
Mila VronskiPublished 3 years ago in HumansOne Last Good Thing
“Hey Chuck. Gettin' your usual?” the clerk behind the counter said. His name tag read BARRY, and was clipped to his red polo shirt slightly askew.
Victor VibesPublished 3 years ago in HumansHow to Take Back What You’ve Lost
Date: 02/27/16 Title: Of course this would be how I'm introduced to my last living family member: a will. I’ll start this journal how I start all my others and preface with my intent:
Lily StantonPublished 3 years ago in HumansSaffron
Jimmy, Johnny and Joey’s lives changed forever. At 2:07am on Saturday June 15th, 1984 a sinkhole swallowed their neighborhood. They snuck out of their homes the night before to raise hell in the city. They were 17. Best friends since kindergarten they couldn’t believe their eyes.
Buck BraceyPublished 3 years ago in Humans