Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Criminal.
Matcha Money
Today is the best kind of day. The rain met with the wind is creating a harsh pelting sound as it methodically thumps against the windows of Kittens Koffee, my go to coffee shop. There’s no other place that can compare to the flow that Kittens gets me into, especially when it comes to writing my poetry. Something about the low murmurs, warm lighting, and smell of ground coffee beans really helps put my mind at ease, and I always get right to work. Today feels like a special day- no- I know it’s a special day, because 11:59 pm marks the deadline for submitting my poetry work to The Poetry Piece Magazine. Ever since I graduated college two years ago, I’ve had the typical run of the mill story that most aspiring writers experience- getting an hourly wage job while picking up small writing offers on the side… until you land a pitch that hopefully gets you running on the ground towards success. I’m tired of worrying about whether I’ll be able to pay the rent on time and living small. I’m ready to live big, and I’d do anything to get away from what feels like the tsunami of stress I’m faced with daily. Speaking of which, my phone lights up with a message from my landlord:
By Sarah Duncan5 years ago in Criminal
The Chronicle of GNPT
GNPT was not like the other kids in the UFO cult. For starters, he was not the biological offspring of the Supreme Leader. Galax-Nu and Pee-Top, his genetically inferior progenitors, had sexually reproduced back when such things were permitted. In those days, combining the consonant phonemes of parental units like their DNA was the way Mission Command assigned designations to new lifeforms...in the happy years, before the “Sublime Directive” at which point the Supreme Leader was deemed the only adult male allowed to retain his penis. Many of the families GNPT grew up with understandably left the church at that time to form a much less intense UFO cult just down the street but his dad was a Rear Admiral in the Vortex Fleet with one billion years of service sworn to the Supreme Leader of the Galactic Confederacy. If that meant having his genitalia surgically removed then so be it. Most distinct from his parents and the remaining faithful, GNPT did not believe the imminent collapse of the third dimension was nigh nor in the infallibility of the Supreme Leader. The “Day of Cosmic Ascension” had come and gone maybe 40 times in the past 15 years and each time some dissonant vibration in the harmonisphere or quick detour to observe a celestial event several light-years off-course had invariably detained the Fathership’s arrival. He had plenty of doubts about the church before but a lot more was at stake than just another disconfirmed prophecy. Today was his 18th birthday and to put it quite bluntly; he didn’t want to chop off his dick.
By Wesley Brown5 years ago in Criminal
Moleskine Grifter
You jog along the highway through a rural, industrial area south of the city. You use this route for Sunday morning runs because no workers commute to the chemical plants on weekends. You have the road to yourself until the faint sound of an engine warns you of an approaching vehicle.
By Matt Graham5 years ago in Criminal
Q is for Curiosity
We’d never met in person before, but I had heard of Mr Fei Dan. He doesn’t blink as he sits at the far end of the train carriage, watching one of his guards scan the E-watch on my wrist. After a second or two, the scanner flashes as a new screen appears, lighting up the guards face. I wonder if he notices my racing heart rate.
By H.K. Ambrose5 years ago in Criminal
Disintegrating pages
On any other night, this street is serene and freakishly quiet with the exception of the boxelder maples swaying in the wind or an occasional jogger or dog walker whisking by. The new halogens street lights serve as a guide through the darkness. Well acquainted with the scenery, Torri enjoyed her long walks home from her favorite place, the library. These nightly strolls offered her the opportunity to reflect on the day's events, make mental notes for tomorrow, and conversely with her father. However, tonight is not one of those nights. The skies were lit with lightning bolts; the rain was brutal and almost blinding. In the middle of this city block, stood twenty-four-year-old Torri who belts out a howl so loud it halted a neighbor who was running to his car from his house. The scream, bursting from her lungs, was an instant reaction to what she was witnessing. Money-filled pages melting away as the rain pounded down upon it. The inner parts of the pages revealing Benjamin Franklin's face. Every page in the book was laced with them unbeknownst to her. Grappling with the idea, that this seemingly new book was melting, Torri was frozen in disbelief and confusion. Realizing she needed to protect the rest of the book, she shoved it into her wet jacket. The concerned gentleman slowly drives up to Torri to offer help but she sprints away quickly leaving him bewildered. With the black Japanese album tucked into her jacket, she ran with full force embracing the assault of mother nature. Determined to get to the nearest train station, Torri was unbothered by the water. After all it was the catalyst for this inconceivable moment. Despite the torrential rain, a fire was lit within her. It had awakened some inner sensations that felt foreign to her. Torri led a reserved and basic life. Her routine is pretty predictable. She is awkward in social settings so she purposely veers in the opposite direction. The bookstore owner and librarian are the only symbols of friendship she has. This night would change her life in an indescribable way.
By Chanel Hutt5 years ago in Criminal
Enough to be dangerous
Sam fell back against the wall outside of the OR. The case took hours longer than she expected. For the better part of two hours, she could only partially see what was happening. She was barely able to carry out her duties of sucking smoke and blood from the operative field. Still, her day was not done. When her chief resident called her to the OR to help out, she was wrapping up random floor “scut.” “Scut” encompassed the endless patient care tasks assigned to the first-year doctors, the interns, who know just enough medicine to be dangerous. Scut was the entry level of learning, not quite mindless, seemingly infinite. The trauma service was a 24-hour nonstop specialty, but tonight, she was not on call and she had plans. She was scheduled to be at the free clinic at 6:30pm. Her work there, not unsimilar to her work at the hospital, somehow recharged her. Taking care of the people there, uninsured and underserved, helped her reconnect to why she became a doctor in the first place.
By Erica Sutton 5 years ago in Criminal
The Little Black Book
Little black book Usually when I walk home from school I’d take the Main Street, that way I get home a lot quicker, but something today told me to take a minute and walk the backstreet home. It was a Wednesday and I knew my parents would be home waiting for my sister and I to make it home from school. I text my sister to let her know I was taking a longer route and to let our parents know I’d be there a little after her. While I was walking I realized I never really walked this way before. It was so peaceful and interesting to see some of the things just laying around. As I was about 2 blocks from my street, I spotted a small black book that was laying on the ground. I looked around to see if anyone was around or watching. No one. I went to pick up the book and looked through it a little. It was a bunch of names and numbers and what looked like prices on the side. I put the book in my backpack then continued my way home.
By Tamia Fontenette 5 years ago in Criminal
The black book
The black book The clock is ticking as I am staring out the classroom windows, the lunch bell couldn’t take any longer. While watching the birds, I see a small black book floating down the building next to my school. That’s odd, my curiosity is at its peak. The lunch bell rings and my class is dismissed. As the youth stampede through the hallways I head to my locker which is not to far from my classroom considering this school only has one floor and by my locker I see my two friends, Ron, and Larry, who I normally eat lunch with waiting for me.“Hey Jim,” they say. After a short greeting, I briefly explain that I saw a black book falling out of a building and I want to see what it is. With a smile, Larry says, “that’s interesting I guess, just make sure you don’t get cursed by this book.” They say their farewells as I grab my jacket to head to the building. A little black book, It’s untouched, exactly in the place where I seen it land. This town is fairly quiet so I wouldn’t expect anyone to pick it up, after all It’s just a book that was thrown away.
By Hyushi Sama5 years ago in Criminal
A Tale of Two Black Books
Pete Rios turns his sub-woofer all the way up so he can feel the Swishahouse bass deep in his chest. He drives methodically through the streets of the low-income neighborhood where he grew up, able to dodge the large potholes with his eyes closed. He sees a Prius in the rearview nearly lose a wheel after driving straight into the pothole he just avoided. Pete couldn’t help but chuckle. “Damn gentrifiers – no street sense” he says aloud to himself before chuckling at his own pun.
By Michael Ramos5 years ago in Criminal
