Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Life cycles
The girl sheltered with thirteen others – the smallest overwinter party she’d ever been part of. Even so, by the time the glaciers began to loosen their vice-like grip on the valley, only eleven remained. An older man had died from cold – slipping quietly from lethargy into stiffness over a single darkness.
By Nichola Casse5 years ago in Fiction
Anything for Mama
The days were long and strange in 2056. The Upland Overriding had taken hold several years before, and citizens of the Earth were in struggle over its’ most precious commodity. No longer did countries go to war over oil. It was far simpler than that. People were on their basic needs for survival. They went to war over WATER.
By Kathleen A Spillane5 years ago in Fiction
Grunt Work
The elevator door opened and we stepped onto the transportation yard. At least it is called a yard though we are still two levels below the surface. Six trucks were lined up in convoy formation. There were 48 of us on this trek, the largest I had been on. Without speaking we walked to our assigned trucks and waited for the transport guys to load us aboard. Once I had wanted to work up here in what I considered “fresh” air, but after one visit and a few hours of breathing the toxins they take in every day I was happy to stay below and suck on recycled air.
By Steve E Donaldson5 years ago in Fiction
Doubting Days
I have these days, these doubting days. Days I doubt everything. They cripple me with hopelessness when they rear their ugly heads. The day Jax manifested the sickness was one. Each cough brought him closer to death, phlegm rolling from his soot-soaked lungs, displaced by the burrowing worms inside him.
By Alec Tucker5 years ago in Fiction
The Problem with Wednesdays
No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief – Faraaz Kazi Prologue Wednesday was undoubtedly the worst day of the week for Aubrey, or at least it used to be. Now it was all she knew. Every day was a Wednesday, and every day was the same:
By J. R. Lowe5 years ago in Fiction
Aniki
There were whispers in the wind. It was difficult for him to think straight, knowing there had to be something else - something more. For just over seventeen years, Kenji heard the whispers. Each time the gentle wind blew past him, a faint calling stayed behind, saying the same phrase every time: In the locket. In the locket.
By Julius Simmons5 years ago in Fiction
A Final Word
A translation from a scroll recovered from the uninhabited planet ‘Paradise’: I am T’ak and this is my foretelling of the end of this skein, recorded for the first and last time and to be preserved forever in the holy script of our people, which is rarely used. For generations greater in number than the islands of the world, our history has been recorded as song, poem, dance and hymn. But, now, as we observe the signs of our coming doom, we attempt to preserve our unique bifurcation along this long path of years atop these islands for our ancestors and our descendants to judge, as they are doing now and have been throughout our long sojourn, on this singular scroll.
By Andrew Rushby5 years ago in Fiction
The Key to Hope
“It is the key”. I never understood why he said that. I remember him wearing that locket ever since we were young, soon after our mother died. Patrik always looked nervous taking it off at security checkpoints. He would remove it last before being scanned, taking it off slowly and carefully, as it hung on the same chain as mother’s dog tags.
By J. Allyn Mosley5 years ago in Fiction
Greyscale
The World was grey. Though it was better to call it monochrome as the grey varied from place to place but was empty and flat all the same. Even the sky never shifts from dark grey even as the clouds scroll by though I’m told it once used to be bright and blue. I could not picture it for I did not know what blue is.
By Anastasia J Cleveringa5 years ago in Fiction
