Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Heart Lock
The founders teach us that what brought the world to its knees was the irrationality of the human heart. The human heart, they tell us, was its weakest link. It’s what betrayed us. It drove us to want things that we couldn’t have, and to fight for unrealistic passions that turned us away from our innate usefulness. Correct the ability of the heart to overrule the mind, and you’ve saved humankind from itself.
By Nick Jameson5 years ago in Fiction
The miner and the medic
The miner and the medic He had told her his name was Devo. Most miners died before their 20th birthday. Devo was in bad shape; red oil flowed freely from his arm implant. Lena reached into her bag and extracted a fat little jar with a screw top. She pulled her patient under the leaf of giant bamboo. It would have to do. Hopefully, the drones wouldn’t spot them.
By Veronique Aglat5 years ago in Fiction
Little Cemetery in the City. Top Story - June 2021.
“You brushed my hair and tucked me in, made me laugh for hours on end. You kissed my boo-boos when I fooled around. Mommy, you never let me down” I stood in front of the mothers of Mrs. Watkinson’s first grade class, listening to my classmates’ stupid poems that sounded to me like stolen greeting cards. I stood there silently and picked at the runs in my tights. I decided on my finest skirt and tee shirt combo that morning in an attempt to be what my Aunt Lora called “presentable”, but in that moment, on display in front of everyone, I missed my ripped jeans that had a crooked yet lovingly hand-stitched cat on them. My tights itched and my feet were cramped. Everything was wrong.
By Josephine Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The Fiery Heart
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. And Luna assumed she knew all too well the hateful world she now thrived in. She knew there was no escape, but she had to try. Had to do anything she could to get back to him ...
By Issie Amelia5 years ago in Fiction
Bloodied Glass Slippers
The sun shone down upon the small house just like it did everyday. Cinderella cleaned the dust from the window seals, humming a tuneless melody as she went. She frowned at the dust, wondering how there could possibly be so much when she’d cleaned the same window just the week earlier. It didn’t matter how it got there, she’d have to clean it no matter what.
By Alexis Moreno5 years ago in Fiction
Love to a Witch
Setting Medieval Dark Ages 1584 Aiden Price @a.pricey Her eyes sparkled as the evening sun kissed her face while she wept in agony. She was clawed at, held vigorously in the grasp of the sea of petrified civilians. Her screams were ear-piercing, causing the harmonious choir of the birds to halt. The atmosphere was grim as dreary people swarmed, their chants growing in intensity. The repulsive stench filled her lungs, she could taste the approaching death. The jagged narrow blade was unsheathed. The roar of the crowd fell silent and transformed into a deep inhale. The adrenaline pumped through his veins, in desperation and torment, the constraints preventing him from protecting his world. Glares of disgust caught his attention; the crowd had no remorse or sympathy. Instead they whispered and snarled under their breath “Witch Lover”. The knife was held high in the air, time slowed, before a strike penetrated her chest causing drops of blood to ooze and seep into the puddles in the mud. His stomach curled as he aggressively threw up, her eyes closed gracefully as she collapsed into the mud. She had been slaughtered like an animal as that is how they saw her, it was their way of comfort accusing someone for this infectious, lethal disease. She was marked a witch.
By Aiden Price5 years ago in Fiction
Space Technology
He clenched the heart shaped locket that once belonged to his sister. He wore it around his neck as a reminder. A reminder that his dream job killed his entire family, but it wasn’t just his family’s blood on his hands. He remembers the look on his sister’s face, the screams of innocent people, and the anger that he felt.
By Heather Skelton5 years ago in Fiction
How I Stopped Stealing
When I was about 7 or so and growing up in Brooklyn in the mid-60s, I had a neighbor named Andy who lived down the block and who was about 10 months older than me. At that age, 10 months made a huge difference. It was almost a year. So, to Andy, I was just a "kid".
By Reid Moore5 years ago in Fiction
