Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

Mountain and Sea
Where there is land and sea, there is life. Where there is life there are obstacles. Where there are humans, there are problems. History has a funny way of repeating itself. War over power and love is all that’s left to silence the urge to live. Stories of ancestors that used to hike and govern all Terra was all that was taught once, dreams for kids to run off and explore the horizons of their island, this was the only way to live to the fullest while longing to be old enough to travel the long sea for possibilities of newer faces. However, there were borders prohibited to enter and explore, clans where created for a reason. “If we all would get along, there would be more fights, staring the new era of another apocalypses” explained the elders. It was known in the villages that in the past, nuclear bombs were launched in order to start over, all due to the fact that powerful people had rivals and out of control democracy. It was taught that the few that were left on the habited island, were doing the right thing. Either have your clan to protect and feed, or hand it over to a better warrior, or for the relatedness of the story, hand it over for wrongdoings that make you underserving of a community.
By Monica Ramirez5 years ago in Fiction
The Sleeping Man
The Oak Estate, November 4015 a.d. He slept for 40 days and nights after we found him. Perhaps he had been sleeping longer, we don’t know. It took me and two of the older children two hours to drag him back to The Oak from the snow where he’d lain. We were wide-eyed, in a dream, anticipating something spectacular as we dragged him up two flights of stairs and plunked him clumsily into a bed. All day and night, he slept. His breathing, invisible. His vibrance, superb. He had no wounds we could see, and our scanners cleared him as clean from disease and infection. I put water and dark bread with beans by his bedside each night. It was eaten a few times, but we never saw him eat it.
By M. A. P. 5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket of Hope
“You can do this bro.” The words were spoken in a dark silhouette. Alex and Holden were crouched in a storm drain underneath the city – water trickling down the walls.
By Phillip C Beaver5 years ago in Fiction
Palace of Temelesi
“From the All-Master we came, to the All-Master we return. Hold onto our hearts so that we shall not burn. Until our duties are done, we live as one, intertwined is our death with the Earth.”
By Rory Hamilton5 years ago in Fiction
The Empathy Set
Zed was full of shit. I couldn’t ever voice this, as such a hateful comment would result in a hearing on unconscious bias, an offense that carries a quite displeasing penalty: 133 hours of reading Zed’s formation files followed by proof of empathy. I haven’t yet directly offended Zed, so his formation files are technically still a mystery to me, but I can surmise.
By Jill S5 years ago in Fiction
I'm Here
It's been so long since I've seen colors; the blue sky, birds, trees, smelled a flower or felt human touch, but I remember you as though it was yesterday. Your smile and the way your eyes crinkled, your one dimple that would appear as your eyes all but closed when you'd walk toward me grinning from ear to ear. Your beautiful brown skin, so soft it felt like heaven, so warm, so smooth, tattoos adorning both your arms, never quite completed, but still a part of you. Your voice, nurturing, low and soft always comforted me.
By Celeste Barbier5 years ago in Fiction
Forgotten Gold
To his most Royal Highness, As you have requested we have transcribed the audio from the files given to us. One had wished to spare you the mainland minutia but one is happy to acquiesce to your requirements.
By Doc Syonide5 years ago in Fiction
Embers
When the black and orange fiery ash fell from the sky, we were already standing on the hilltop watching three houses in the immediate distance catch fire and burn. Flecks of ash floated so peacefully that I reached out my hand to catch the snowflake-like embers, not considering their heat, before they ignited the grasses of the mesa. People imagined out loud that another country started the attack. I couldn’t help but think it was our own president, but I kept this to myself. There were three men in military-like outfits with faux-leather construction boots yelling about treason and insurrection, people I would call paranoid under regular circumstances, but they didn’t seem so outlandish to me now. They, at least, were prepared.
By Casey Kaye5 years ago in Fiction
Me and the Cockroaches
It’s time. My whole life has been building to this moment. My destiny is at hand. Grimacing through my body’s myriad protests, slow as the human mind to abandon self-deception, I lurch to my feet and start crunching across desiccated prairie grass. A puff of stygian summer wind wafts at my back as if to prod me along, but I pay no heed, setting my pace barely above a shuffle. Destiny is terribly important, but its days of flitting away around the next corner are finished. I can close the remaining distance at my leisure.
By Brian Poe5 years ago in Fiction
Uncle Kronus
The mountain of yellow clay is without windows and larger than what Spat had imagined. Gamblers and pick-pockets mill around the entrance like zombies. Everyone wants a hot tip or a few extra rubes to spend inside. It’s easy to identify humans from Earth—they are short and scorched brown. But humans from the Moon resorts or the Mars colony all stand tall and pale like him. A doorman with four pistols strapped to his chest scans Spat’s wrist and opens the door.
By Dustin Hyman5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
by Susan Doria Word Count 841 She first saw the heart shaped locket at an antique store in town. It was on a delicate gold chain. When she opened the locket, two familiar faces stared back at her. Quickly snapping shut the locket, she raced to find the owner of the store. Finding him in the back storage area, she demanded, “Where did you get this lock?“ Hmm. Let me think. Oh, yes! It was sold to me by a group of time travelers.”
By Susan Doria5 years ago in Fiction
Guerilla
Guerilla “Everybody uses you in one way or another.” This was the stench of sheer unadulterated warfare. Bodies of dead rebels and soldiers littered the battlefield. The aura of this place intrigued me.. Even though I had been groomed since I was a child. This experience was all too real… There were no training dummies or drills taking place, no generals or lieutenants howling down on young reluctant rebels . I couldn’t believe my eyes… I wasn’t ready for this type of scenario… sure we always had prepared for this day but this encounter was much more surreal... yet I was drawn to it, blood rushing , heart pulsating like never before while anxiety and fervor took hold of me violently. Before I realized I was already rushing into battle and losing myself within my own compulsiveness, Soon I had become the hero of the battlefield. Eyes fixated on the conqueror I had become. With each slash, stab, penetration I had begun to lose myself eventually into a dream I found to be pleasant. I wanted more , war cries became a melody, blood an exotic beauty, death as if it had been made just for me. That all too pleasant dream? A nightmare. Me a conqueror? Loser. Hero? Vigilante. I had lost myself in a battle and found myself in the abyss. Finally sentient and conscious when it was too late. I had not only killed our enemies… I had also killed my brethren as well. My friends, mentors, family. This truth I could not accept… rationalize… I’m not sure what happened after that. I awoke in a stranger's home “Guerilla” he called me.
By S.D. Martin5 years ago in Fiction