Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Criminal.
The Aristocrat's body
The two thieves were ecstatic at the sight of the dead body, their jobs had already been done for them. There, in the middle of the alleyway, propped up against a crumbling wall, an aristocrat, glass-eyed and expired. He wore a white military uniform, it was supplemented with his own red in three places over his heart. His face was neutral, fine, eyes lazily open, mouth closed, he died either ready or utterly unaware. Bits of gold sparkled on the corpse, washing with glory the rubble strewn alleyway.
By Hugh MacLennan5 years ago in Criminal
Grandfather's Journal
Grandfather died on Tuesday. I’ve been told by those who knew him before I came along he was a dangerous man. He was in over his head, they said. He owed money. He was a drunk, addicted to whiskey and the way it made his head buzz and his throat burn.
By Alexa Davis5 years ago in Criminal
The Garage, or Consciousness in Violet
Hyperventilating, mouth dry, eyes rolling uncontrollably, & neck throbbing from a violently racing heart, it was clear he was about to lose consciousness. It had come on suddenly, & Elijah instinctively knew it was inevitable. He couldn’t even get his eyes to focus, & the rows of cars swam in his grey, dimming line of vision. His only comfort was in knowing that he would collapse in front of the elevator he’d just stepped out of, on the second level of this parking garage. And though, at 2:00 PM, the lunch crowd was gone, this garage was in downtown Seattle; someone was bound to find him & help.
By Umohowet Yelayu5 years ago in Criminal
The Adventures of April
Publishing my first book was supposed to be a memorable moment and an attempt to truly leave my mark in this lifetime. As a retired party girl, who’s not always made the best choices in life, I decided to share my experiences with the world. I would write about all my screw ups and what I learned from them in my own hilariously witty twist. Completely naïve to the process I googled How do I get published? Almost immediately I was bombarded with ads for sites offering free consultations. There was one company whose name really stood out to me.
By April Phillips5 years ago in Criminal
Pencil Truths
Early evening A room. Tightly plaited banana leaves in the roof hide the last waning rays of sunlight, leaving it illuminated solely by a single bare bulb. The light reveals a single wooden chair tucked under a matching desk, that throws eerie shadows along cracks in the walls.
By Zoe Slattery5 years ago in Criminal
Short on Love
"Banks Breaks Bank!" was the headline in the New York Times morning paper. The article stated, "Joshua Henry Banks, A man of many means started his first hedge fund at the age of 23. His company Banks and Banks grew to a market cap of more than 10 million over the course of 5 years and he ran his business in his 2nd floor loft on 42nd street in the middle of New York. Early this morning Banks and Banks claimed bankruptcy due to a large investment on a shorted stock that went in the opposite direction. It has been said that users on an online stock forum rallied the stock price up more than 100% causing Banks and Banks to sell at a much higher rate losing all of what it was worth."
By Jade Ferguson5 years ago in Criminal
The Only Option
“Who is he?” “I don’t know.” “Are you going to kill him?” “What other option do I have?” Spencer’s breath came quick and shallow. His legs were too weak to stand and he collapsed onto the broken sofa. His mind raced with a million thoughts that all crashed into one another, leaving him with nothing but a headache. He stared at the small notebook. Heather stared at him.
By Donald Granger5 years ago in Criminal
Taxicab Dreams
Out of breath and out of time, Billy froze under a bridge. It was warm for February. If he closed his eyes, it felt like a summer breeze was hitting him. Or was it panic? He peered out one side of the bridge, with a silenced thirty-eight in his right hand. I know he’s out there, he thought. Billy was more wired than tired, but at some point, rest was a must.
By Tommy Comer5 years ago in Criminal
It’s a Good Story
I was born with two gifts: rotten luck and an addictive personality. When I was fifteen, my mom took me to the dog races. I put all ten of my dollars on a greyhound named Fast Albert. He won, and so did I. I’ll never forget the feeling of that crisp fifty dollar bill in my hand. It felt like a missing piece of my soul. That was the first time I ever made a bet.
By Martian Brady5 years ago in Criminal
