Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Sally
It was stuffy in his special place, the dusty wooden support beams constricting his movements. It didn’t used to be such a tight fit, but times had changed. He had gotten bigger, although he didn’t feel like he had. In his mind, he was still only ten, but he knew that wasn’t the case. His body showed the effects of age. His hair was longer, as were his fingernails, which tapped out a rhythmic pattern on the thin plaster in front of him.
By Jude Bolick5 years ago in Fiction
Rush
Chapter Three Crash, Bang, Boom A car door slamming outside my window jolts me out of a deep sleep. I get up to peek outside, to see Parker stumbling around to the back of the house. "Subtle" I groan. I make my way downstairs to let him in. When I open the door, Parker falls face first through the doorway. Rolling my eyes, assuming he is drunk, I reach down for him. "Come on Parker, let's get you to bed." He moans a garbled reply, but when I grab his hand it is slick. Then the stench of wet pennies hits my nostrils.
By Dominique Stedge5 years ago in Fiction
When the Sun don't shine
In a deceptively, devilish, distorted dystopian reality, little David had adapted quickly to this world of upside down truths. This was his reality, and navigating through it took skill and wits, not to mention luck of serious caliber to survive a days’ worth of adventure here.
By Jody Randall5 years ago in Fiction
The Broken Locket
53...54...55...56...57...58...59...60...61...Always exactly 61 steps to the top of the landing. Never more...never less. It makes it easy and seems to go so much quicker when I count each step. I also can’t make a mistake that way, and in this world making a mistake can be foolish and even dangerous. And so I count each step. And now I stand before my office door and turn the knob and open the door to my waiting room. I don’t need a key because the door is never locked. No doors are ever locked anymore. And why would they be. We all have everything we need to be happy and complete. At least that’s what they tell us on the Big Screen every morning. No need to steal someone else’s stuff. So no need for a key. No one is going to break in. And if someone broke the rules and were suddenly overcome with the need to break into my office uninvited and were discovered to have taken something, they would be deemed unnatural and unfit to live in our oh so perfect society and would quickly pay the ultimate price for their transgressions and be taken to the official Other World, the world referred to by them as simply the Darkness. And we live in the Light and should consider ourselves blessed to live in the Society of the Light. And so as I open the door to my office and walk in as I do everyday, I remind myself once again how important it is to live in the Light.
By Steve Mandell5 years ago in Fiction
Seen
“Understand this if you understand nothing: it is a powerful thing to be seen” ― Akwaeke Emezi, Freshwater In her mind she sat at the water's edge, her toes dug deep in the coarse moist sand, admiring a sun-pillar on the horizon - light stretching to the heavens like a beacon of hope. The view was reminiscent of the Star Wars poster her mother had hung in their home office that had previously been her sister's bedroom. She clung to the imagined rhythm of the lapping waves, seagulls cawing, taste of salt in her mouth, and children giggling somewhere in the distance, the breeze coming off the gulf coast carrying the scent only found close to the ocean - a sweet, pungent smell that she knew was caused by bacteria, but she chose not to focus on that detail and instead revel in the calm it’s imagining brought. With her eyes closed, she inhaled deeply and was accosted instead with the smells of those in, near, and around the small room she now occupied. She was disappointed not to experience the floaters one gets from accidentally looking at the sun when she opened her eyes and fixated on the woman sitting in front of her.
By Michell Witt5 years ago in Fiction
Rush
Chapter Five A Face in the Crowd The big night is finally here. Father and Parker look so charming in their suits, and I’m not hating the way I look in this dress! Mother curled my hair and pinned the delicate strands into a bun on top of my head. Alyvia and Taylor came over to get ready, and over-excitedly agreed to do my make-up. I feel like a princess, with the best looking entourage a girl could ask for.
By Dominique Stedge5 years ago in Fiction
Game Over
It is quiet. Unusually quiet tonight. No dogs barking. No guns clapping in which would signify someone's death in the news in the morning. No fire trucks, and no police cars whirring in the night. It is peaceful outside, "Which makes it peaceful inside", thought Marcus as he played his video game Infection. It is a game that allows you to infect the world with different diseases. You could set up the symptoms, how fast it spreads, and more. Marcus loved this game. He played it off and on when he was upset with the world about something. Tonight, Marcus was disturbed by something. Marcus wanted to go on a field trip to the colleges. It was arranged by his Math teacher Mr. Davis who believed Marcus was a genius at this subject. He told Marcus it would not cost them a thing. Mr. Davis was willing to pay all of his expenses. That is how much he believed in Marcus and his mathematical skills. All the other students knew Marcus was more advanced than them. They accepted how advanced he was and encouraged him to go on the trip. The entire school supported him.
By C~Marie Rhodes5 years ago in Fiction
NothingGold.Exe
She didn't mean it. When Mommy said I wasn't real. I sniff, wiping tears from my eyes as I struggle in the small space to which she had confined me. I grip the gold locket which contained the picture of me and Mommy. In the photo, Mommy crouches beside me, her arm looped lovingly around my neck. I can remember the way the dock creaked beneath my flip-flops. The way the leaves had turned to gold on the other side of the sparkling lake.
By Brian del Rio5 years ago in Fiction
PAEAN
The last of the funerals was now a year gone and diminishing into the cataracts of memory. Jason and his son were the last and there would be no others. A jagged pyre of dry shattered wood waits by their white swing set which had grown sullen with rust for there were no more children to come after him. I had broken down the fence, the dead spruce, pale chaparral and even the peeling dog house they left long after the animal had refused to return. But there was still not enough wood for this.
By Kevin Rolly5 years ago in Fiction
The Raid
An arid wind blew through the dust covered town in northwestern Arizona. It was one of those small towns that the world had forgotten after the outbreak, and this made it the perfect place for people to settle. Lives of luxury were gone, and those who enjoyed them were gone, too. What was left were those with the will to survive, and those who could avoid falling prey to the prior.
By J.M. Moran5 years ago in Fiction
In the end it was the zombie earwigs
It would have been better if it had been butterflies. Marjorie loved butterflies. They were soft and lovely and flitted from flower to flower. Would being smothered by soft butterflies have been better though? Earwigs, on the other hand, were ugly and creepy. And had those nasty pincers. They did not flit. They scooted and scurried. And they killed a lot of folks. They killed her Marcos.
By Linda C Smith5 years ago in Fiction
