Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Time Goes By
Tick. Tick. Tick. Esmeralda Jones stopped and listened. Where was the ticking coming from? Nothing mechanical moved anymore, not since long before she took her first breath of the Earth’s dusty air. The world was quiet now. The wind and rustling leaves were the loudest things on most days. Her grandma told her it used to always be noisy, technology and motors gave society a constant background hum. When everything mechanical let out its last wheeze, people became dumbfounded by the sound of nothingness.
By D.R. Medlen5 years ago in Fiction
Music is our Resistance
The rich leather cracked against B-321’s skin once again, cutting deeper into their flesh. Deep gashes spanned the length of their back; their hands were bound to the top of the wooden stake. All they could do was scream in agony. Punisher cracked the whip three more times, each strike followed by a vocalization of anguish.
By Grace Linn5 years ago in Fiction
No oil. No Fuel. No Society.
Everyone thought that fossil fuels were endless. The Earth had enough of it right? There were pipelines all over the world; tapping into oil wells and transporting it to be processed into plastics, feedstocks, asphalt, roads, and fuel. Coal from coal mines creating electric energy across the world to fuel power plants. Natural gas for cooking, heating, and electricity in homes; and to create thermal output. You would be surprised on how much our world relied on fossil fuels as a whole. Unfortunately, it would run out. And we wouldn't be prepared soon enough for it.
By Rachel Slater5 years ago in Fiction
The Pollen Plague
Charles started coughing, and the fit was so strong that he doubled over clutching his chest. When he calmed down he pushed the stop button on his phone’s recorder and looked out the window. Months ago he was on a business trip to Seattle before the government started locking everyone in their homes. He had just stopped in DeRidder to visit his father and brothers when the pollen had spread over all of south-west Louisiana, at first a light dusting, yet it was enough to send a hundred people to the hospital.
By Carter Vezina5 years ago in Fiction
Yaga Resort
Jack hated camping. Specifically, he hated the kind of camping that his wife, Jill, enjoyed, which is the kind of camping that she grew up with. No RVs or campers. No, the kind of camping she liked was just in tents. And that’s how he felt. Tense. As in Past. But, maybe, he thought, he might be able to salvage something out of this relationship and this camping trip. He didn’t know what, though.
By Eric Hammers5 years ago in Fiction
Dixie
Entry 27: Fleeting “When This all started, I was optimistic. I still had those who loved me for support. They gave me the strength to keep fighting, even when I couldn’t do the same for them. Now… Now I just want it all to be over- whatever that means. I don’t care how this ends, I just don’t want to have to run anymore. Ever since Jupiter, I haven’t been able to think. She was my rock. The one constant in this world of chaos. I feel so alone and lost and unstable. Nothing is for certain. We were sure that the hospital would be our light in the dark, but never...
By Isaac Walker5 years ago in Fiction
Ruby's Crow
Ruby Thomas stood at the edge of her back porch, content while watching the sun ascend from the mountains behind her blooming garden; it had been a long while since she had enjoyed a peaceful sunrise. A light breeze carried the smell of lilacs from beyond the hill leading to a meadow behind her small house deep in the woods. Reminiscing the day she happened to stumble upon this beautiful land, she sat under a woven basket, leaning against a thick beam, swinging her feet above the ground where dandelions danced. She knew from the single calendar she had, that she had only called this place home for about seven and a half lonely years. Lonely wasn’t quite the right word, she had made friends from visitors of course. Especially one of a crow.
By Amy Matthews5 years ago in Fiction
The Heart of the world
I can’t help but wish for someone to talk to again. It’s been six years since I became the last person on earth, and all I want is someone to talk to, who would talk back at least. “We gotta find you some food.” I said, scratching Clover behind his ears. He pants and licks at my hand in response. As we walk through the empty city streets, I can’t help but laugh as Clover runs through the tall grass that has grown through the cracked asphalt. Labradors always were my favorite dogs, even as a child, and as Clover runs back to me, looking pleased with himself I can see the only white spot on his chest that earned him his name. I crouched down and scratched him again. “Come on, it’ll be dark soon and we need to find a place to stay.” I told him and stood. We started walking again, towards the tall cliff that over looked the city we just left. We hadn’t found any food, unfortunately, so I was hoping we could find a wild deer or some other animal in the field on the way to the cliff. Clover ran and jumped, playing in the grass as we walked. I laughed at him and kept an eye out for anything we could use, my pack thumping against my lower back with every step I take. I keep trying to steer my thoughts away from what things were like before it all ended, but I just wish I had another human to talk to or laugh with. I sigh and keep moving, shifting the hunting rifle I found in the city from one hand to the other. I stop and pull the bolt back halfway and look down at the shiny brass casing nestled in the chamber just to give myself something else to look at other than the sea of grass before me. Clover comes running back over to me and makes a deep noise in his throat, looking from me to the grass ahead and back. I drop low and seat the stock of the rifle against my right shoulder, looking through the scope. Clover has never let me down before; he only signals me when there is an animal nearby. Through the lens I could see an antelope about fifty yards ahead grazing in the grass. I smile to myself as I hit the safety switch on the trigger guard and take a deep breath. Thank God most of the animals in the zoos managed to escape when everything ended, otherwise Clover might have had to go hungry more often than not. I squeeze the trigger and feel the butt of the rifle hit my shoulder as the shot rings out in the quiet air around us. The antelope falls and I stand up, my ears ringing from the sound of the blast. Clover barks happily and I nod at him giving him the okay to run ahead and investigate his dinner. I slide the bolt back and watch as the empty bullet casing falls to the ground, making no noise as it hits the grass. I walk over to the antelope carcass and stop short, hearing Clover growl low in his throat. I look around and immediately spot the problem. There is a pack of three wild dogs standing around him and his prize, trying to get a piece of meat. Of course, I only have a few rounds left for the rifle and we run into predators. I grit my teeth point the rifle into the sky, firing off a shot hoping to spook the dogs. There’s another loud crack that echoes around us and all three dogs take a step back, but none run away. This is a problem; I need my remaining shots to hunt with or a to take care of a bigger threat, but none of the dogs are running. I sling the rifle and reach down to grab the knife on my belt when the biggest dog, a German Shepard, lunges forward. I shout and start to run forward as Clover attacks the other dog and the two go rolling through the grass, snapping and snarling at each other. I ran forward and tackled the third dog, a smaller mangy mixed breed, and stabbed it once through the heart before it could jump into the fight. I start to stand and a massive weight slams into my back, as the other dogs teeth snap closed next to my ear. Before I can move to get the dog off my back, its teeth sink into my shoulder. The scream I let out echoes through the air around me and I roll as hard as I can pinning the dog beneath me, causing it to let out a yelp. I jump up and swipe at the dog with my knife, slicing open is front leg. It lets out another yelp then turns and runs, tail tucked between its legs. I rotate my shoulder and the damage doesn’t seem too bad and I move towards where I last saw Clover. I smile as I approach and see he’s okay, only a few small cuts and the other dog dead behind him. “Good boy.” I tell him, scratching him behind the ears again. “Now let's get back to camp.” I bend, grab the antelope, and head to the cliff.
By chris trunk5 years ago in Fiction
The Damascene Heart
Mari couldn’t remember actually deciding to leave the city. Maybe the decision was made in her dreams one night, or in the dawn hour between sleep and waking. Or maybe it was made as she walked home one night, touching the pepper spray in her belt, listening to the violence that always seemed to be just one block over, and knowing that her elected officials cared only for money and power and little for the citizens they supposedly represented.
By T.J. Samek5 years ago in Fiction
Beyond the Wall
The bald crow cried thrice to signal the Sun’s altering hue. Prin gazed at the now pale green orb and sighed. Pulling her scarf tighter around her face, she slid from the bar and vaulted over the crumbling wall into the street. The Traveller’s sign creaked a final farewell to her as she trudged towards home. The growing breeze carried forgotten waste down the road, swirling and dancing along the pavement, an imitation of life that had long since ceased. Due to it’s immediate proximity to the wall, the small village had been one of the first to be stripped bare and had thus been rather peaceful of late. Prin stuck to the path and turned right from Main Street along Chestnut Grove, the only chestnut in sight a small, worn etching on the side of dustbin. She gazed with longing at the dark alleyway which connected Chestnut to Rose Way but continued without altering her course. Without rules, we are no better than them. Rick’s voice, carved into her memory. She walked all the way to the end of Chestnut, took a left and weaved through the mess of houses, sticking to the cover of shadows as she moved. Passed Boundary Gardens, passed Cherry Tree Lane, passed Acacia Avenue and finally passed Rose Way, where she quickened her pace. Beyond Rose Way, a barren wasteland, the white wall looming in the distance. Her feet knew the way, they followed the path that they themselves had grooved into the sandy earth.
By Bethanie Clark5 years ago in Fiction
