Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Retreat
“Pour vous?” “Whisky, s’il vous plaît." Nils was the barman and proprietor of the only inn in the village, but unfortunately the best days of Le Table were firmly behind it. The dusty wooden floors creaked underfoot and the rickety stool on which I perched was in dire need of repair. Propping myself up on the ancient mahogany bar seemed almost disrespectful given its age, far in advance of mine. I felt there the combined weight of all those elbows supporting weary arms without complaint, the heavy heads of despair and drunkenness, and the jubilant dancing feet of happier times.
By Andrew Rushby5 years ago in Fiction
From The Bunker to The Sky
"We’ll be out soon, little one.” The woman looked down at the tiny infant in her arms smiling warmly. Many generations had survived in the bunker. She was grateful hers would be the last. Nuclear war had ended life above ground, and radiation took away any possibility of that life until today. The bunkers filtration system was clocking the radiation at stable levels, meaning the air from outside was becoming clean.
By Michaela Mewherter5 years ago in Fiction
Prime Viewing
Although the enslaved scientist wanted to help his fellow servants, his mind divined no solution. The relentless pursuit of pleasure by the Primes ruled his life. In their self-centered intolerance to the more general human condition, however, the elite females reveled.
By Karen Madej5 years ago in Fiction
2055
It feels weird sitting here, trying to remind myself how to write. I guess it’s been over 20 years since I’ve needed to. It really feels crazy to stop and let myself think about how it was. I guess I should start by explaining a little more. I’m sitting here now in April 2055, it’s my birthday today, I think, that’s why I decided to take this book from a supply run last week, I thought it might be healthy to express my life. I doubt anyone will ever see or even know this exists, but I used to love writing when I was young, may as well tell my story.
By Rhys Bibby5 years ago in Fiction
Burning Red
The stupidity of humans fascinated Briar. With almost everybody else dead, she had time to ponder it. The cost of jealousy is not one to be overlooked. Briar was sifting through the old rubbish dump, trying to find anything she could sell to make a profit for her family, the putrid smell constantly wafting into her face. This activity had become a daily necessity, however, she just wished she could become accustomed to the smell, every day the smell seemed to get worse. As she rummaged, she saw a faint glow out of the corner of her eye. As she gazed upon the item, a scowl grew on her face. It was a locket. A fearful sight in these times. One single gold heart locket had meant the end for approximately 7 billion people.
By Jane Pekin5 years ago in Fiction
Push
I woke up in a ditch upside down in my service truck. I remember I was at work running a road call to work on a broke down 18 wheeler. I had a bunch of used tires in the back of my truck and then I remembered I saw the flash, the skylight up and heard the blast. I was stuck in my seatbelt and my head was bleeding I didn’t think I was gonna make. Then I thought about my daughter is she ok? She needs you, push yourself, push harder, move! Then the heart shaped locket, it falls out of my right pocket the one I was going to give her, it was a picture of us with her mother, her mother passed away a few years ago. A memory of love that pushed me every step of the way, every day. I grind my teeth my pain grew numb and I reach for the knife in my back pocket and cut my seatbelt as I fell I kept an eye on the locket. The windows of my truck were covered in the black tar substance and I was in a river. I could hear the water flowing. I could break the glass but I couldn’t push through the rubber I had to find a tool inside the truck, yes a prybar that I left inside the cab. I started cutting through the rubber with my knife and pry bar and water started coming in. I pushed my way through out of the truck with the locket in my hand. I opened it up and the memory of my wife, my family hit me so hard. I close my eyes and cried quietly, but screaming a silent scream, then I heard my daughters voice and my sadness turned into anger. I grind my teeth and I said push harder, get to her she still alive and she needs you. I look around and I’m in a River and all along the shoreline I see bodies. I knew this river was deeper but it seems most of it evaporated during the blast. I looked at my service truck upside down in the water and possibly the tires saved me they melted around the cab in the water, it must have kept me from frying. The water was so hot, I swam to the shoreline, oh my god when I saw the bodies it was like they were melted from the inside out. They I heard push harder clear as day and I ran up a hill but only to see the city destroyed and on fire. I started running down the street from the downtown area, seeing people melted in their cars the smell made me choke from the burning flesh. I ran for about 2 miles when I fell and started to cough blood. A pile of debris that used to be a convenient store, I started searching through it and I found water bottles. Then again like if someone was standing next to me I heard the words push, push on. There wasn’t another living soul in the area everyone was dead. I grabbed a bag and filled it up with water bottles, the water help my throat but I kept coughing blood. I found a bike that was damage but it still worked I open the locket and remembered a good memory of all of us riding bikes down a big hill that my daughter thought was scary. With tears in my eyes I rode that bike as fast as I could, headed home. We lived in the country outside the city and I was almost there. I saw people and the houses and the trees were not burnt like in the city. I must have made it out of the blast zone. I stopped in front of my house and I threw the bike down and I ran to the front door. When I entered I saw my daughters face, I saw tears in her eyes but then her face lit up like the sun when she saw me and I gave her the locket and she opened it and I was home.
By Joseph Samuel5 years ago in Fiction
Marked
Walking beneath the black iron archway made Seffy shudder. The slim band of metal secured to her wrist bleeped, and a light flicked on. Green. So far, so good. The building in front of her was ugly. Only the illuminated cold blue light of the letters gave any real colour to the grey concrete. AMIC. The company that had saved the world. Or doomed it.
By Claire Stephen-Walker5 years ago in Fiction
Day 110
Day 83 The piercing sound of screams echo through the distant trees. My body lies idle, paralysed in fear. My throat tight, forcing my breath to grow quiet. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the helpless screams escaping from the dying people. The moon peaks through the tree’s branches slayed by the autumn season. However, no light highlights the grounds surface. I stay still. I can hear my heart pounding from my chest, I can feel it in my throat. I can’t sleep. How could I? Humanity is under attack, people are dying, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
By Bethany McDonald5 years ago in Fiction
The day they came.
Melissa awoke in a panic that grew as she looked at her surroundings. She vaguely remembered the loud bang and flash of light as she was pushed down the basement steps by her father. She remembered watching in fear and confusion as he ran off to go and get her mom and brother, leaving her scared and alone.
By Natalie Haigh5 years ago in Fiction
The Replacement Core
“Core installation complete in 10…9…8…” From his seat in the corner of the room, the Director tensed. The Core Replacement Process, his technicians assured him, was so simple the Core could practically install itself. Still, the Director was anxious. His reputation rode on the success of this process. The entire nation relied on the computing power of the Core and had suffered greatly when the last one unexpectedly expired. The Director had personally overseen the expedited selection of a new Core, a move that had thrown him under harsh public scrutiny. He’d brushed off the dissenters, the angry protestors, knowing that once the system had come back to full power and the nation once again began to flourish, he would be lauded for his decisive actions.
By Kelsey Calise5 years ago in Fiction
249 Versions
It’s a strange sensation when you have to bury yourself. As I shovelled a pile of dirt onto the lifeless face of version 46, I couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming sadness. It was like a part of me had died too. This version of me wasn’t just a clone, even though he looked exactly like me. He had his own mind and emotions. But now #46 was dead. Just like so many others whose graves surrounded me. I took a moment to stop digging and stood up straight to stretch my back, but was reprimanded with a club to my jaw. They never let you rest.
By Nathan Cox5 years ago in Fiction
