Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Friday Night Fights
The 'law of the jungle' holds that “Might Makes Right”. Political, Corporate and Personal disputes are often resolved to the advantage of the more powerful combatants even when it's clear that such a resolution is wrong-headed and harmful.
By Virgil Killebrew5 years ago in Fiction
The Diamond's Secret
It lay comfortably nestled in the soft dirt. It was damaged now, its delicate lacework dented from the events that left it behind. A bush had grown next to its resting place, the roots catching its chain and dragging it below the surface. Eventually the bush had died, and a rodent looking for grub tunnelled below. The tunnel collapsed sending it deeper into the earth. A quake shifted the surrounding soil until it finally found its current resting place where it was content to remain.
By Deanna Carlson5 years ago in Fiction
Blue Eden
The birds didn’t singing anymore, I realized as I sat on my perch. There wasn’t that many animals around anymore. You would consider yourself lucky if you saw a cat but there are some who were smart enough to hide. I had been in the woods for three hours, but I wouldn’t dare to let myself move an inch from my hiding place. The sun was beginning to set low into a faded purple sky. Pretty soon I would lose the light and that would mean I would lose the chance for dinner this evening. I can’t see in the dark. I could feel my hand starting to cramp from gripping the bow for so long, but I was worried of making any movement that would scare away dinner. I was determined to catch something tonight. My ears strained to listen any sort of noise that would indicate of approaching dinner but all I could hear was the leaves shifting in the breeze from the trees above me. God, I missed grocery stores. I missed everything of the life before. This is not what I do. This is not who I am. Everything about me and this situation was the opposite of what I did before.
By Nubia Chavez5 years ago in Fiction
The Reaper's Heart
The end of the reaper’s scythe dragged through ash as he wandered through a world he was once a part of. He didn’t remember his life, not anymore. He was able to recall shadows, breaths of memories that floated through his mind like flakes of snow that he could never hope to catch. His heart no longer beat, and emotion was as foreign to him as the countless souls he led from one existence to the next. His sole duty wasn’t to know the souls he reaped, it was simply to guide them, guide them to an existence that he himself had rejected.
By Harrow Elizabeth5 years ago in Fiction
