Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
THREE
Before life turned to hell overnight, kid three had a name, a family, and most of all, a past. Raised in a warehouse with twenty-one other orphans, all were numbered instead of named. The Elders as they called themselves, were rough taskmasters who forced their charges to perform backbreaking tasks to earn their keep. Too traumatized to remember her parents or past, three did her best to survive in a world where a seven-year-old was beaten daily by the older children for a bite of food.
By TERRY DORTCH5 years ago in Fiction
The Place Beyond the Pain
Her eyebrow sweat, as her throat becomes dry and her palms become moist, indicating nervousness for what lies ahead. Mallory Harrison is a human rights lawyer, something she always dreamed of becoming but never realized how much work it would become. Today she is presenting to her firm, a case that would originate in Germany, but arrived in Atlanta. A woman sex trafficked, slaved in the United States. Mallory’s client was stabbed, raped, bitten and bloody. Mallory is fighting for her and all the other women affected by Sex Traffic; boldly Mallory is pushing for strict proposal of law in Georgia. Bobby, her best friend, is seated and supportive, the room is filled with every board member, and she begins presenting along with Bobby’s assistance. Mallory sees a smile from Bobby, only sending butterflies through her already anxious body. As she gets through the presentation, there is a moment of hesitancy as she walks out the room, unsure of the tone of the board’s opinions. “You were amazing in there!” Said Bobby. However, Mallory begins to question herself, “was it enough? Should I have pushed harder? Did I speak clearly?” She thought. Mallory headed back to her desk with a sense of dread, wondering what they might say. “They just sat there and starred at me, making unpleasant faces” she whispers to herself. Mallory wonders if she should approach a member of the board to get a better understand but instead attempts to get back to work on her usual cases. As the day goes on, Mallory questions what the decision of the board will be. Her confidence begins to wither away as each hour passes. Second-guessing every decision, she makes, eventually its 5:00PM, she packs up and heads home. Greeted by darkness, she throws her things down, heats up her dinner before heading off to bed. Unenthusiastic, and feeling defeated by the silence and remarks of the faces of those old men of the board; she quickly falls into a deep sleep.
By Meghan Beauchamp5 years ago in Fiction
Left Behind
As the fifth drone flew over our house in the past five minutes and left my line of sight, I knew we were in the clear. I gave off a loud whistle to signal Ollie that we were safe and then I carefully slid myself along the attic’s floor to avoid the low-hanging ceiling. I also knew I shouldn’t make any sudden movements that might cause me to come crashing through the roof. The house we were squatting in tonight was made in the late twentieth century due to the pictures hanging on the walls throughout the house as well as the layer of mold and dust that covered the floors and furniture. Ollie despised the people who lived during this time in history because he blames them for how the world ended up. War, famine, and climate change definitely turned our world upside down and he believes the people to blame are the same people who owned houses like the one we are in tonight. I don’t follow that same mindset. Sure these people should have made better judgment calls when they started seeing the early signs of climate change. They should have bought cars that weren’t so demanding in fuel. They should have saved the precious freshwater they had such easy access to instead of drowning their lawns in it. They should have eaten less meat and sprayed fewer chemicals into the world. But, honestly, I don’t blame them as much as Ollie does. They were just clueless. My mother always told me “ignorance is bliss” when she would explain how the earth became how it is today. It took me a while to understand exactly what she meant by that, but I have learned the meaning from firsthand experience now that Ollie and I have lived on our own the past few years.
By Katie McKittrick5 years ago in Fiction
The Blackbird Story
When I was a little girl, my mother and I lived with my grandparents in a small farming community in the heart of the Mississippi Delta. My grandfather drove a truck for Scott Petroleum, and my mother worked at the local blue jean factory. But my grandmother was a retired bookkeeper who sold Avon and looked after me during the day until my mom got home. In the afternoons, my grandmother’s sisters would visit for coffee and dessert. They would sit around the kitchen table sharing the town’s gossip or complaining about the low turnout at Sunday’s potluck dinner. Sometimes they would gather in the den to shell peas and reminisce about their childhood days growing up on the family’s farm. These were the stories I endured over and over until their words got embedded in my mind so sincerely that on any given opportunity, I could have told them myself as if they were my own. They seemed to leave a stain on my tiny spirit much like the stain from the purple hulls of the peas in my bucket.
By Heather Holland5 years ago in Fiction
Friends
Purring coaxed her brain to consciousness that morning. Time to feed Thor, her giant Maine Coon. Lana didn’t even glance at him, but he kept purring and followed her to the window. She opened the blinds overlooking the desert she worked on so the light would guide her way to the kitchen where she fed Thor his real food breakfast.
By Kira Mulshine5 years ago in Fiction
The Fifth Day On
“The Four Day War happened enough months ago that I’ve lost count of how long it’s been. Four days was all it had taken though, and humanity was done. They came from the skies with such fury casting fire so pure many thought it was the rapture. Their ships blotted out the sun, casting shadows over landscapes filled with the terrified apex predators of the planet. Big dumb apes that thought they were so in control of the world around them. In just one moment that all changed. No one is quite sure what they wanted, or what they took, they were here and gone too quickly
By Jesse Smith5 years ago in Fiction
Influencers
I woke up realizing two things – I was no longer cold, and the others had gone. I wasn’t sure where I was at first – hazy recollections of running through the dark mall, ivy covered pillars and broken escalators. Looking around I realized I was in was some kind of a storeroom. No windows, shelves stacked floor to ceiling with boxes containing who knows what. A department store, perhaps, judging on the thick duvet and pillows I was wrapped in. I hadn’t been this comfortable in months.
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
