Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Time
I watched her hypnotize my coworkers, each of them listening intently as she handed out assignments. They were simple tasks, like dinner was to be outside her door at 6PM sharp, and warm towels at 9AM. Simple, but she said each as if it were gravely important, accentuating it with a large tip and a promise of more. She went through everyone on shift, except me. I had come in late and was hanging back, observing the commotion at the front desk.
By Faith M Adam5 years ago in Fiction
A memory of snow
It had been a few days since the last snow. The sidewalks were passable again and the snow was turning the color of, well, that color snow turns when it's been exposed to the worst the city can throw at it for the better part of a week. Grey, green, black, brown with suspicious yellow pits and assorted trash for good measure. City snow.
By Liam Strain5 years ago in Fiction
All Tomorrow's Lives
I am in Colorado, flying above the forest. My body-extension drone hovers above the beginnings of the wildfire that will burn an area the size of Manhattan. There is a plume of black smoke, and the air has become turbulent. Twenty people will die in this fire, most of them firefighters. I can only assume this is the best possible outcome. I have no access to the information in my past, but if I were to judge by the mobilisation of crews here to fight it, and its proximity to the town of Kittredge, I believe it could have been a high-casualty event.
By Owen Schaefer5 years ago in Fiction
To You, 25 Years From Now
Edyth didn't want to be here anymore. Every step forwards on the carpeted floorboards felt like a step backwards into time; into a part of her life she had renounced from her mental history books. The choking smell of cigarette smoke still lingered on the familiar faded, sagging furniture, and the heaters installed throughout the home still rattled like maracas. It gave her a headache just being in the same space again. Sweat was already pooling under her bra and between her shoulder blades, but she had only just stepped inside. The air simply felt too stale, too stuffy, too much. Everything in this house was too much.
By Amanda Starks5 years ago in Fiction
Fair Trade
Margot sat on a park bench and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Pain radiated through her eyes and into her head. How could she have gotten laid off? She needed that crappy, low-paying job. Her family needed that job. She imagined her dad’s disappointment. The worry lines eroding his once handsome face. Margot groaned and pushed the heel of her palm into her eyes, trying to slow her racing thoughts. A dull thump on the bench yanked Margot from her thoughts.
By Cynthia Varady5 years ago in Fiction
