Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
A New Beginning
In a quiet suburb in Arizona, It was still dark as the Emergency-Alert System rang across each wifi device in the Anderson's home. Fourteen-year-old Ava and her parents quickly roused to gather downstairs. The vision through their front window was one they wouldn't soon forget! The street was lined with large armoured vehicles and military roadblocks at the end of the once quiet road they called home.
By D. Wisekal5 years ago in Fiction
The Man-Made Rapture
The moon never came. The sun remained high in the sky in all its glory, all it’s fiery glory. It’s rays beat down on the Earth like the flaming swords of angels, scorching the land it once nurtured. No trees for the birds to sing in, no seas for the fish to swim, no wind, no rain, only sun. They lost all track of the days, months, years, time and for many even their minds. Ever since the day it had gone, the yin to the suns yang; all balance had been broken. The only thing the people of Earth knew was hell and that those responsible were away in the sky, somewhere out behind the blinding light. Heaven? Perhaps, they once called it Mars but to its new inhabitants it was home. To those who remained, it was irrelevant they knew where they were. No God did this, this was the work of man, the corrupt stink of humankind was all over it and only the innocent knew its stench.
By Loyd Moody 5 years ago in Fiction
Twilight in the Wasteland
The wind whipped around Tozul and he pulled his hood tighter around his mask to keep the dust from his eyes, nose and mouth. The local star was doing its best to pierce the dark cloud cover, but it was never more than a pale twilight on a good day, and mostly darkness the rest of the time.
By James Campbell5 years ago in Fiction
HOWL - Hunter's Moon
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, SYRIA - 2010 It was hot that day. Had been hot yesterday. And it was probably going to be hot tomorrow. That was the nature of things in the middle of the Syrian desert. Haylee didn’t mind, she’d long ago adjusted to the dry climate, the frequent dust storms, and lost hope they’d ever see rain, much less the target they’d been tracking for a little over a year, now. But her superiors would promise her otherwise (both rain and traction), and she knew better than to speak against their word. She was, after all, only a lowly Comm Tech...it simply wasn’t her place to say anything, be it about rain in the desert...or whether or not their target was even still alive.
By Renee King5 years ago in Fiction
Waving Their Futures Goodbye
There were five of them, sisters aged from fourteen down to six, and they had all stood by the gate of their Somerset farm and waved as the soldiers marched past. It had been Dora’s idea – she was the eldest – but the rest of them – Lizzie, Martha, Rebecca and Ruth – had jumped at the chance, especially as their 17-year-old brother Reuben was going to be one of the soldiers.
By John Welford5 years ago in Fiction
The Pocket Guide to Practical Homesteading
I was madly in love for a short time, years before the war, The Pioneers and their Academies. He was the strangest, kindest and most interesting person I have ever met. For a fleeting moment, I thought I had found someone to build a life with, and then he disappeared.
By Christina Blanchette5 years ago in Fiction
Peachy . Top Story - June 2021.
In her complexion there lay a latent rouge which would emerge if she had been running for the train, or he told her she was pretty. In truth, she was very pretty, but she moved slowly and with the languor of a young teenage boy. All her elegance was in her face. Her eyes and brows were dark, and clashed broodingly with an otherwise pale disposition. Her Cupid’s Bow rose aggressively, but with a certain symphonic grace that moved around the rest of her face like a swirling wind. She had it in her to bite with a single look. On other days though, usually when the sun had brought out her freckles and kissed her skin, she would let down her guard and a downy innocence would bashfully emerge, like a peach. He often told her as much, immediately after having paid her some compliment deliberately devised to illuminate her cheeks. ‘Like a peach, that’s soft and sweet the whole way through – no stone’ he would say.
By Jonnie Walker5 years ago in Fiction
The Disaster
"I must get to it," I muttered as I saw a faint glint of light across the broken and crumbling streets. The fading sunlight gave an almost peaceful feel to the evening air - almost. Dead bodies scattered the entirety of the city either drowned or crushed. Animals fed on what they could find and the crunching of leaves and splashing of puddles reminded me all too well that peace was just a far-fetched notion now. The scavengers that I scouted out the previous night were here to pick the items from the dead just as the animals found a free meal.
By Jessica Shaw Huntington5 years ago in Fiction
Mementos
I found the locket hanging on the neck of a woman long deceased. Though she was nothing more than a collection of bones when I found her, she still wore a faded paisley dress, cinched at her forgotten waist with a simple belt that may or may not have been brown leather at some point. Faint wisps of copper and rust red strands still clung to her dusty skull and her hand clenched tightly in her husband’s. He wasn’t much better off, his remains having long deteriorated to skeletal aspects, though he still wore a faded tweed suit and his dancing loafers. The couple were draped in Death’s wedding veil of cobwebs as they sat haphazardly together in the ruins of what was once their family home.
By Renee King5 years ago in Fiction
CYCLE
Humanity lost the ability of childbearing, a gift granted to all life on this planet. Cursed with eternal reincarnation, we roam the world in different shells. Those who died returned, emerging from random bodies of water. Always the age of ten, and always as someone else. With memories still intact, we continue to live life with infinite second chances.
By A. W. Knowland5 years ago in Fiction
