Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Fall
The fall came without a warning. No wave of cataclysmic disasters to forecast the outcome. No prophets of woe stating the end was nigh. No politicians promising hope and a solution. It all happened in the proverbial blink of an eye. People went to sleep one night and when they awoke - the ones that awoke that is - the world was different.
By Sophie Jackson5 years ago in Fiction
by gaslight
The End had come suddenly, in the way that most things break, in an unexpectedly expected manner. Humanity saw the horizon, ignored the signs, paid the price; the usual story. There had been war for as many years as it took for it to feel like normality, and then came a time when dialogue became perceived as fruitless, communication gave way to fear, and eventually all it took were the egos of a few to extinguish the existence of billions.
By Joanna McLoughlin5 years ago in Fiction
The Bee Locket
It had been seven months since the world dried up. Scientists said it would happen, but no one cared. The bees. The bees were gone, extinct, and we, the poor leftover species of the world, were left scavenging for food. Everyone said if bees were to disappear, the humans would lose apples, coffee, and a few other things. What we really lost were plants- all plants that provided food. I was one of the few who knew this would happen. I was a science teacher in the Oklahoma City Public School System, and I read much research on the topic. In the end, pesticides, drought, and global warming forced bees into extinction.
By Jessica Mathews5 years ago in Fiction
Untitiled6Terra
Mama and Papa came from beyond the frontier. Apparently it's an infinite amount of times much better than here. They loved talking about the White Sun that bathed over the territory beyond the frontier. Till this day, when they call it Adam’s Apple, their eyes glisten with joy. Shortly after, you can see the light die off in their eyes. “It’s a really good place to be in though” Mama reiterates to me with a fixed smile. She’s falling apart. I'm old enough to see her worn out skin and mind now. In my world, having a mind is equivalent to wandering. She can’t wander anymore. The time for her to wither away like the rest of the people that eventually do in Terra is inevitable. So is the fate of those of us who reside in the neglected Terra. Terra wasn't always doomed like it is now. Beaten down by toxicity. The natural end result of a bombardment of lesser humans trying to coexist together. Eating whatever rotted food is available. And the heat of the Red Sun destroys all forms of ways to produce natural food.. “Our rightful place is in Adams Apple.” The elders said to us before they turned to dust. “My sight is leaving me soon” Papa preaches to me relentlessly. “Need I remind you of The Great Separation that happened years ago? Me and your mother lived under the white sun in Adam’s Apple and received blessings” Papa said at the top of his lungs as his bones seemed to be shaking.
By oluwadare odeyemi5 years ago in Fiction
The Book Savers
When I was little, my grandfather started talking about what the world was like before The Accident. The days of bright sunshine and carefree living burned bright in his mind and he loved to talk about how it used to be. A time when traveling was easy and comfortable, the sun was visible all the time, and large swaths of land were covered in crops and animals. All things that were little more than stories these days.
By Eryn Milliken5 years ago in Fiction
Nuclear Red Tide in Texas
I squint. I look out into the sky and see two vultures, or death scouts is what I call them. The scouts scour the sky. They look for the dead, but they are not nasty creatures. They are scavengers, like the rest of us, except they can smell dead animals up to a mile away. I wonder how far away the rest are. As I squint, stare towards the sun, and look at them - I wonder how much longer it will take for anyone else to show up here.
By Shay Morrow5 years ago in Fiction
A Letter And Rose
Hello… My name is Rose. I don’t know if anyone will ever find this, I hope someone does. I probably shouldn’t be writing this letter. I don’t have much time left, but people need to know everything that went on here. If you do find this, that means everything is okay again. I wish I could see what this place would look like if it was all different. I’ve never known anything other than this. I’m sorry... I’m starting to cry. I’m just so afraid. No, I have to be strong. My mother once said to me “The true beauty of a rose is not in its appearance, but its strength. In order for a rose to bloom, it must first have the will to grow. To grow, a rose must survive all of the seasons and stand tall during the worst of the storms.” or something like that. She taught me that what we look like is merely the book cover to the story of who we are and how we got here. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess I just imagine a little girl like me finding this letter. I’m sure if you’ll even get this letter, but if you’re reading this, I could sure use a friend now that my mom and dad are gone. Best Friends Forever?
By Chet DeLeo5 years ago in Fiction
The World Ends
The civilized world had ended five hundred years before, and many continued to argue about what, exactly, had caused The Cataclysm. Whether it was the result of one of the superweapons theorized to have existed at the time or the countless demons that poured out of underground vents at night was entirely unknown. Trevor had been born into the post-Cataclysm world, and frankly his work wasn’t impacted by what caused two thirds of the world to be eradicated in a single year. He was interested only in the prospect of finding remains, which had almost all been devoured by the demons hundreds of years before, leaving no organic traces of the previous civilization. The fame from such a find, he thought, could get him all he ever wanted.
By Travis Wellman5 years ago in Fiction
Loveless
The gears creaked and steam shot from a crease in the fumigation pipe. Men dressed in dull gray jumpsuits pushed 2 large bins up to the top of the conveyor. Aside from some dim lighting, only the red glow of the foundry on the far end offered enough light for the artificers to do their work. In the shadows high above, a thin woman dressed in a tight suit with a black jacket stood on a catwalk, megaphone in her left hand.
By Bradley Saddler5 years ago in Fiction
Galilea
“Shhhh…” my mother warns me, pressing one long finger against her lips. I curl myself into a tighter ball inside of my hiding place, not daring to breathe until the whirring sirens of the sentinels are long gone. Once the coast is clear, I emerge from the damp closet beneath the stairs, and allow myself a little exhale of relief. But even though I’m safe for now, I can never truly enjoy a worry-free breath. There is always the fear of being captured lurking in the back of my mind.
By Kora Greenwood5 years ago in Fiction
