Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Amazing Instant Infant
“Customize your child!” The man on the screen announced excitedly. Dawna and Phil turned to the sound. They were a typical couple. She came from a Korean family. He was Nigerian, Phil Obasi was his full name. They’d been married for five years. They lived at 23 Cherry Tree, the street name and number of a tiny square of dirt, but, as Phil liked to say, it was all theirs and if you considered that their ring of land went straight through the earth, the sixteenth of an acre stretched into a thousand miles.
By Peter Wisan5 years ago in Fiction
We Can Never Run. We Can Never Hide.
"Run, Run, Run, that's all we ever do. Why can't we do something unconventional for a change?" Austria said as she threw her arms down. "Sweatheart, keep running, please, we are almost there–" my husband, Ian said before three IO guards rudely disrupted him.
By Ceo Of Dying5 years ago in Fiction
The Devil's paradise
The wooden door creaked open when Officer Thomas Richardson kicked it with his boots. He strongly gripped a pistol for the safety measures and progressed into the darkness of Mrs. Catherine Earnest’s basement. It was pitch black and anything could be hardly witnessed to the human eye. When he stepped in, a strong pungent odor smashed his breathing ability. Officer Richardson covered his nose and mouth by a small piece of napkin from his pocket. Slowly behind him, two other officers walked into the basement holding torches. The beam of flash managed to wipe out the darkness and guide them further. It was an eerie environment like a deserted place. No noise was echoed except their footsteps. There were broken and old furniture shattered all over the basement. The walls were roughly painted; the wallpapers were torn and it was cold inside there.
By Jayashree M5 years ago in Fiction
Finding Us
Robert, upset by the flight delay but thankful he’d forgotten his wallet at the hotel on the day of the accident, decided to look for a place to buy a cell phone at the airport. John, always the planner, told Robert that he always kept a card in his wallet with a list of important phone numbers whenever he travelled. He said that Robert should do the same, just in case something bad ever happened. Robert was thankful that he took John's advice when he arrived at Hong Kong airport. When he first found out about the delay, he tried using a payphone to call Maryanne. He tried several times, but the calls kept dropping before he could get through.
By Gerald Holmes5 years ago in Fiction
There's One Just Like it Everywhere
"Tell me a story, stranger." The guy on the opposite stool was a typical weekday drunk, full of good humor at the pain of others and caustic remarks at nothing at all. That he was polite to me was an oddity; perhaps he sensed that I was different, that I was less tethered to this place and its vices than those of his usual company.
By Andrew Johnston5 years ago in Fiction
Maggie and the Selkie
That morning the bodies were counted. Twelve in all, and one still missing. Hamish. When the families took the bodies home to prepare them for burial, Maggie sneaked down to the beach to walk the shoreline. Five miles north, and five miles south. Through her tears, every piece of driftwood and kelp was a human figure; an arm reaching for help, a crumpled body found too late. Maggie’s hope disappeared with the sun and a low, slow groaning emerged from her throat as she sank to the sand. The pain in her heart was so strong she didn’t notice the water rising around her, the cold seeping into her skin.
By Heather Ewings5 years ago in Fiction
The Man On The Train
Tap, tap, tap... The tapping was constant and annoying. Somehow it rose above all the chatter and clanking and rustling of the usual noise of the morning commuter train. She sat a bit straighter in her usual seat. A window seat with her briefcase placed on the empty seat next to her, looking at no one, speaking to no one. She always sat at the same seat on the same train 5 days a week to work and back,
By Susan Lewis5 years ago in Fiction
In the Cage of a Dream's Lament
It was the perfect life. Trella lived for the moments when she stood in a ballroom, hushed voices rising over the music that provided an ambiance absent from ordinary life. Even when she was not dancing, she liked to close her eyes and just bask in the soft percussion and the trill of a violin. And, no matter how much she wandered or frolicked among the gathered guests, her feet never ached.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Fiction
Raven's Sacrifice
Once Raven was white, from the tip of her beak to the tip of her tail and the points of her claws. Though she was a bird of the earth, her pale colouring meant she could mingle with the spirits of the heavens; the angels and daemons of the bright, bright skies; those from whose lips poetry sprang, and whose songs carried a beauty so exquisite all who heard them wept. Raven spent many a day and night with these beings, watching as they drank the sparkling waters from the Well of Inspiration, listening as they gave voice to their creations. Sometimes she joined with them, for hers was a sweet song, and many stopped to hear her music.
By Heather Ewings5 years ago in Fiction
