Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

Never Not Together
Jake had remained calm and kept his frustration from getting the better of him for months but every day that was becoming increasingly more difficult. The more opposition he ran into the more he wanted to lash out and make people listen.
By Jackson Howl5 years ago in Fiction
The Evil
Night, mid spring Journal entry 444 The Change We were together, you and I, for a number of years. With you I experienced the most magic I never knew existed in this world. I also experienced the darkest depths of a human soul. The insanity that love can cause.
By Al Inclusion5 years ago in Fiction
Whatever We Are
The night was chilly, much cooler than it should’ve been for the time of year. There was no point in trying to predict weather patterns anymore, though. The explosion had seen to that. Most days were either hotter than hot, or colder than cold. The rain made your flesh itch and humidity upset your lungs. You had to breathe through your mouth on windy days; no man could bear the stench that rode on the breeze.
By Amber Carta5 years ago in Fiction
Silence and Repetition
I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been. I had one job, to find something useful, food, clothing, clean water, but all I had found was a stupid, old, golden heart shaped locket that wouldn’t even open. I wasn’t even sure why it was still clutched in my hand, like a rosary, while I shuffled my way back home before the darkness set in and all the world would be quiet and black, save for the moon and sparsely lit candles. Our home was tucked away in a small field surround by sage brush and pine trees, an old ranger cabin in the middle of nowhere. As I approached my home I could see dark grey billowing smoke at a distance that seemed too close for comfort, someone had let their fire get out of control. I shoved the locket into my pocket before opening the door to home.
By Sara Goodsell5 years ago in Fiction
A Terrible Time For New Beginnings
If anyone alive had been around to observe the passage of time, you would learn it was exactly midnight on a Monday in the year 4783 A.D. when a former U.S.A cloning faculty’s main generator failed, and the clones in it began waking up early. Any dieter could tell you Monday is a terrible day of new beginnings, not to mention midnight, an hour of unwarranted things, but humans had long vacated earth some 120 plus years ago, so no one was around to explain all this to the struggling clones. One clone in particular could have benefited from this news. New to life, this clone sucked in the air she instinctively craved only to find herself drowning on the amniotic fluid she was suspended in. Panicked she pressed her hands on the glass she could not see out of and then beat on it when it did not give way to her touch. She was dying; although she did not understand the concept of death, she possessed an innate understand of the discomfort it brought on. She loathed the feeling and writhed to rid herself of it.
By E. J. Strange5 years ago in Fiction
Squidopia
Hank stared up towards the hazy edge of the water’s surface, soon he would join his fellow squibs on The Dry. Not much of the world had dry places like this. For the world had always been full of water with these strange islands in remote places.
By John Stone5 years ago in Fiction
Bone Corner
Suicide Sickness hit the high-country hard as an ice storm and silent as a blite. Too frequently my rides into town were blocked by processions of mourners. The burials had turned to bonfires with the survivors-so-far circling the departed, howling around the flames. The ash only made it about a mile from the ceremonies before settling on stilled vehicles and once white windowsills. The snows didn’t wash it away, it made it clump and drip and stain everything gray. Burn-burials, as they came to be known, happened after the ground froze, and people kept on needing to be laid to rest. Folks considered several bodies sharing a grave to be morbidly unacceptable—but bodies sharing the flames, I guess that was alright. At first it smelled like people were grilling chicken and burning hair at the same disgraceful cook out. It’s confounding how much human flesh smells like barbecue and how much burning the rotten clothes triggered that gag reflex deep within. At least it was just the older folks back then.
By Matt Keating5 years ago in Fiction
A Locket
The setting sun reminded me to sit to rest, letting myself collapse onto a nearby curb. I’d nearly forgotten what I was walking for, my feet blistered, having memorised the long path so I didn’t have to.
By Paul Alberts5 years ago in Fiction
Church Goers
Pattie is lying between the wall and the fridge. Pattie is my dog. I figure she likes the gentle vibration of the motor when it kicks on. We sure stepped in shit finding this spot. I commuted here, three times a month. I’m in chainsaws. That’s unclear. I deliver parts for certified Stihl brand chainsaws. To think that I came here, to this city—well they call it a city, it’s not. I came here to this broken mill town and boom, that’s the day this place sees more excitement than it has since before logging fell out of favor? Boy, these out of work folks sure can turn a downtown upside down. I’m not exaggerating when I say they had torches.
By Matt Keating5 years ago in Fiction
Nowhere Land
She woke in the pre-dawn with the birds and lay still, listening, like she did every morning. If the birds weren't worried, then nor would she. Moving reluctantly in the chill, she drank a cup of water from her pack, then went to relieve herself.
By Rosalind Becroft5 years ago in Fiction
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. Chapter two/three...
Chapter two Are we there yet?
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
DIRTY SKY
Today was the first quiet day in months. I looked out the window, or what’s left of it. I could hardly see through the dirty glass. Trying to wipe it clean with my sleeve, I scratched it with the locket I was holding in my hand. I forgot that I was clenching it in my fist. I’ve been doing that for days. A heart-shaped locket. The only thing left from my past life. I went to look for my dog, who I haven’t seen since yesterday. He was probably hiding somewhere. I hoped.
By w_d_5 years ago in Fiction