Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Buying the Fairyman
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. A man traipsed his way through the brush beneath mauves, magentas, azures, and the ominous failing of the light. Stopping to check his copies of road maps and written directions with a flashlight, he mumbled through his beard: “What’s so bad about white picket fences…?” One side of it was caked in mud from a fall, the other still gleaming with cheap beard oil.
By Matthew Daniels5 years ago in Fiction
Pass it On
Glancing around the room at the seven faces of the dead on the wall, and the coffee table where cash, a notebook, and a gun lay, Dan briefly thought he’d wandered into some hitman’s apartment rather than his own. He supposed to outside eyes, the dwellings of both killers and those who track them must often look the same.
By Alyssa Gray5 years ago in Fiction
Deposits
The first week of chemo, Peter sits by you and rambles about everything and nothing for the sake of distraction. You’ve just learned about the money dumped into your bank account — twenty-thousand pounds that isn’t yours. It’s been there for two weeks, which shows how often you bother to check. The bank app labels it a deposit, but it’s a mistake.
By Owen Schaefer5 years ago in Fiction
The Infinite Vastness
Esteban looks at me and claps his little notebook shut with one hand. He walks over to the garage door and leans forward until his head hits the wall with a faint knock. He’s still standing there with his forehead pressed into the plaster when he begins:
By mark wilkes5 years ago in Fiction
The Perfect Dress
The shop had been there as long as Lily could remember. She thought back to when she was seven years old and her sister took her there for the first time. It was enormous, with frosted glass windows and pointy spires on the roof, like miniature church steeples. She had paid particularly great attention to the door. It was a large wooden door with an oval-shaped, stained-glass picture of a pink and red rose. The glass met the door in perfectly smooth connection. The handle curved outward and then down, like a swan, craning its neck to eat the last crumb of bread thrown at its feet. A small lever above the handle would release the lock and it clicked when you held it down with your thumb. The door made an eerie creaking sound when it opened, almost like the doors in the scary movies, but this door wasn’t scary.
By Amos Glade5 years ago in Fiction
Whole New World
Maya stepped out the glass door with a shiver. A strong breeze swept through with such intensity it made her stop and regain her footing – November in the Windy City. Could be way worse, she reminded herself, taking a deep inhale before adjusting her mask. At least the sun’s still out, she thought gratefully.
By Sneha Pradhan5 years ago in Fiction
Diamonds are forever
Susan sat on the subway bench squeezed between two large people. They weren’t overweight, just tall, overall bigger than average. Susan was tall too, but slight and wispy, kind of like a birch tree. One small birch tree wedged between two big oaks. She accidentally looked directly at the man sitting across from her and quickly darted her eyes elsewhere. He saw her. Dammit. On the New York City subway, one does not look people in the eye. One certainly doesn’t speak to anyone unless asking for directions. Directions are allowed, but only if you don't live there. Sometimes, Susan does not pay attention to these rules.
By Faith M Adam5 years ago in Fiction
Come get me, Angel
My fingers were aching, the result of being torn and chewed up from pure nerves. It was a bad habit, but one that gave me the distraction I so desperately craved. It felt like I had been sitting here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. A few hours since the funeral, since her funeral.
By Casi Alarcon5 years ago in Fiction
The Dead Drop
She had that unsettling feeling the moment the snow lifted and she could see the cabin through the midwinter trees, somber and oddly still in the gloom. There was no sign of life inside, not even the telltale smoke from the chimney, just the eerie quiet of the white, snowbound forest all around. She paused, and that moment of dread rippled over her once again, that moment she hoped would never come but, deep down, knew it would.
By Hamish Alexander5 years ago in Fiction
A Picture is Worth 1000 words
Jim cursed under his breath as he weaved around groups people aimlessly clumped together, staring up at the skyscraper that loomed above them. He doesn't usually get so worked up. He doesn't mind tourists the way a lot of his coworkers seemed to. He actually enjoys watching people who've never been to the city see all the "tourist" stuff for the first time. The sense of awe and appreciation they have for the things he's been taking for granted his whole life remind him of how lucky he is to have grown up in the city. What he did mind was working near the Empire State Building, and-- now that he was late-- the amount of ducking and dodging it took to make it to the building's front door.
By Faith M Adam5 years ago in Fiction
Time
I watched her hypnotize my coworkers, each of them listening intently as she handed out assignments. They were simple tasks, like dinner was to be outside her door at 6PM sharp, and warm towels at 9AM. Simple, but she said each as if it were gravely important, accentuating it with a large tip and a promise of more. She went through everyone on shift, except me. I had come in late and was hanging back, observing the commotion at the front desk.
By Faith M Adam5 years ago in Fiction
