Mystery
Hard Memory
The distant tink of metal on asphalt and the hammering of rain on the garbage cans barely registered for the man in front of Josh in aeons past, before the spent shell hit the pavement. He muttered, "Oh, he got me," and dropped to his knees as he stared in shock. His clothes were stained with blood and rain. Josh held the gun in his trembling fists, his fingers unable to relax their hold. A tiny red LED flashed from the gun's butt, alerting his teammates to the fact that an officer had fired his weapon and requested their assistance.
By David C. Connor3 years ago in Fiction
Nails of the Mermammals: A Tail of Origins and Transformations
I counted the days by how much my child's fingernails grew. Half an inch measured two days. One inch measured four days. I knew it would be one week if they became long enough to trim. I taught them this same technique for telling time and space. They had many questions, each of them answered repeatedly and always enthusiastically. I always enjoyed telling them our family's fingernail origin story and why our manicure rituals were so important to us.
By Stephanie Bojanek 3 years ago in Fiction
Finding Georgia
My life felt like a barren, lifeless landscape after my wife's awful accident, devoid of all warmth and colour. I sought comfort in the memories we had shared over the years as the loss of her tore at my soul. Without her by my side, each day was a battle to find purpose in my life. To find some answers or make a magical connection with her spirit, I devoted myself to exploring the forest.
By David C. Connor3 years ago in Fiction
