Mystery
Wendigo's Moose
South of Saskatoon in Southern Saskatchewan, fertile farmland produces megatons of wheat and other food crops yearly. This story doesn’t take place there. North of Saskatchewan the fallow soil of the subarctic tundra grows stubby grass, moss, and lichens. This story doesn’t take place there either. Between those two tracts of land is a six-hundred-mile-wide stretch of boreal forest in the midst of winter’s grip. Now there’s a place for a story.
By Karl Van Lear5 years ago in Fiction
The bubble
The bubble “Mother, why do we have to stay in this giant bubble? Look out there! Look at the birds flying! What do they sound like? Yesterday you told me those four legged animals are deer, they are so pretty! The trees are so huge, the grass so tall, why are they swaying and dancing?” Pointing beyond the glass bubble, wiping it from the condensation of my breath.
By Leslie Strom5 years ago in Fiction
Husk. Top Story - June 2021.
Husk The birds don’t come here anymore—not since the burned-out husk appeared in the woods. No one knows how it came to be here. The grass in the clearing is green, the surrounding trees unmarred. Yet the car’s innards are scattered about like this was a crime scene someone tried to obliterate.
By Svetlana Sterlin5 years ago in Fiction
Melody
Melody Jenkins wasn’t normally a big consumer of newspapers, but as she made her way through the market, she dropped a fresh copy of the afternoon paper into her basket. She made her way to the front of the store with the few items she needed, and quickly paid the cashier. Luckily, the rain had stopped, and it was a short walk home.
By L. Lane Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
The Angel
The Ranger unit loaded up into an M-35 truck to head out on patrol. It was 1425 local, and they were scheduled to roll out at 1430 hours. They had three outposts to check on and were expecting to be gone about four hours. Sergeant Prince was in the passenger seat, as leader of the unit, with his driver and four soldiers in the back of the truck.
By L. Lane Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
The Unexpected Visitor
Here is a fictional short story about an unexpected visitor with a twist. ... My hands molded the dough. Flour seeped into my fingernails as I turned the dough over. I placed the soft succulent mixture into a tin and put it into the oven before rinsing my hands under warm running water, drying them quickly on a towel. I drank the rest of the red wine from my glass and quickly wiped down the grey marble worktop cleaning the specs of flour off with a damp cloth. The trilling of the doorbell made me jump as my ginger head hit the saucepans hanging from the canopy.
By Denise Larkin5 years ago in Fiction
Pass it On
Glancing around the room at the seven faces of the dead on the wall, and the coffee table where cash, a notebook, and a gun lay, Dan briefly thought he’d wandered into some hitman’s apartment rather than his own. He supposed to outside eyes, the dwellings of both killers and those who track them must often look the same.
By Alyssa Gray5 years ago in Fiction
The Dead Drop
She had that unsettling feeling the moment the snow lifted and she could see the cabin through the midwinter trees, somber and oddly still in the gloom. There was no sign of life inside, not even the telltale smoke from the chimney, just the eerie quiet of the white, snowbound forest all around. She paused, and that moment of dread rippled over her once again, that moment she hoped would never come but, deep down, knew it would.
By Hamish Alexander5 years ago in Fiction
