Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
OUR WORLD
DOOMSDAY Essay OUR WORLD He opened his eyes slowly. It was hard to tell day or night anymore. The quiver of grey light forcing itself through the small rain hole above him is all he could count on as an alarm. The cold thick air violated his living space. Five shelves stored his freeze -dried meals, his means of survival. The old farm sink in the corner held two urns of drinking water. The faucet would run cool water for what could be an hour every day, he wasn’t sure but it was enough to freshen up the last 4 days. The toilet thankfully was screened off. Every time he used it he was wondering where it went. It wasn’t that important any way. How he made it and survived, he still couldn’t clearly remember. All he wanted to remember was being at school with his friends, having fun like a normal twelve year old should be doing. His Mom. He could smell her still, every time he woke up, even when he slept. His dreams were sometimes so real and pleasant. They were all he had left of his memories. The trips to grandma’s in the summertime at the coast. The beaches, being out on the water and the salty spray on his face, the taste of the ocean on his lips. The beautiful warm rays of sunlight sweeping his skin. He missed it, he missed her, so much. When he was younger and would complain about being out on the boat for hours. “Its too hot, can we go in now?” The way she would always place her hands on either cheek, look into his eyes and say, “ Lets enjoy what we have today, all the beautiful sunshine, cool air. We’ll go in soon sweetie” The heart shaped locket would swing into his chin when she kissed his cheek. She always wore it.
By Donna Seymour5 years ago in Fiction
Tani's Torment
Tani sat with her back against the rough bark of the giant weeping willow, their special tree. She leaned her head back and stared up at the graceful branches filled with thousands of tiny green leaves; they reached down from the heavens like a protective covering. Tears flowed down her cheeks, like the stream nearby that meandered its way from the distant hills to meet a bigger river. This was not how she envisioned spending their anniversary; yet, here she was desperately missing Andy, hoping to draw some strength and peace from this tree. The tree where they would sit for hours holding hands and sharing secrets, where he asked for her hand in marriage.
By Viltinga Rasytoja5 years ago in Fiction
Survivors
I didn’t expect the stink. We wade through ankle length muck. Mum makes us keep our shoes on, even though we’ll need to scrub them in the creek later, and they’ll take forever to dry, and it’ll mean going barefoot for a few days while they do. And then they’ll probably reek forever of rot and waste and goo.
By Heather Ewings5 years ago in Fiction
What Kept Me Going
'Keep.... Going.... You have to keep going!' My mother’s voice ringing in my ears, as each step gets heavier and heavier. My arms and legs feel like lead, swinging automatically from their respective sockets. My chest burns with the intensity of a rocket fuel fire, but I cannot stop now. It has been one year, three months, and eleven days since my mother and I separated near the border.
By Lady Paris Dodson5 years ago in Fiction
What We Fear In The Light
Entry – March 12th In the aftermath, we howl at the fetid landscape and wonder what we have done. Poison drips in the air around us. The toxic clouds drove us underground long ago. And there we wait in the potent dark. In our silence. We had the scraps to rebuild. Pieces. Eclectic fragments of a life extinguished. We pieced them back together like a defective jigsaw puzzle, incomplete of all its parts. We cobbled together a form of what we could call a new beginning.
By Vivian Noir5 years ago in Fiction
Wings
Arney stared out over the ocean, his claws clicking against the rocks at his feet as he sat and thought. The weather was starting to cool and soon he’d have to find a warm cave to hide in during the snows. He didn’t have to, strictly speaking, but he found it much more enjoyable than having to trudge through all that muck and cold wetness. Being a creature of stone, earth, and fire, he had never been overly found of this part of the year.
By Gianna Robbins5 years ago in Fiction
Locket or Bust
Poker chips clacked together. The deck passed to the player on the left. Doc grimaced as the big blind landed on him, but he hadn’t joined a high stakes game to turn chicken. The dealer handed out the cards, cigarette smoke swirling to the ceiling from a cigar dangling in his lips.
By B. M. Valdez5 years ago in Fiction
BREEDER
My name is Will. Naming me was the last thing my mother did before she died. Sometimes I tell myself a story for comfort. In this story, my mother wanted to give me a name that was a secret message, the only one she would get through to me. I imagine that my mother looked back over her short and crappy life and thought about all the hell that lay ahead for me, and the message she wanted to pass on was Have strength, be resilient. Will. I give you Will. Sometimes I even imagine that she wanted to say something more—I’m happy you were born, Will. I love you and want you to survive. But I don’t think she actually loved me, and I know she wasn’t happy that I was born. She killed herself a couple of hours after I came into this world. I don’t blame her—she was only thirteen years old.
By Honni van Rijswijk5 years ago in Fiction
The Aftermath
"Take a chance, take a chance, take a chance on me..." Reeve couldn't help the small smile behind the filtration mask she wore. The mask and the headphones—combined into one amalgam of pure tech and tomfoolery—brought her some sense of relief as she traveled on foot through the scavenging site. Really, it was just the dumping ground for all the materials that were deemed hazardous or useless after clean-up of Site Zero.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Fiction
