Short Story
Diamonds are forever
Susan sat on the subway bench squeezed between two large people. They weren’t overweight, just tall, overall bigger than average. Susan was tall too, but slight and wispy, kind of like a birch tree. One small birch tree wedged between two big oaks. She accidentally looked directly at the man sitting across from her and quickly darted her eyes elsewhere. He saw her. Dammit. On the New York City subway, one does not look people in the eye. One certainly doesn’t speak to anyone unless asking for directions. Directions are allowed, but only if you don't live there. Sometimes, Susan does not pay attention to these rules.
By Faith M Adam5 years ago in Fiction
Come get me, Angel
My fingers were aching, the result of being torn and chewed up from pure nerves. It was a bad habit, but one that gave me the distraction I so desperately craved. It felt like I had been sitting here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. A few hours since the funeral, since her funeral.
By Casi Alarcon5 years ago in Fiction
A Picture is Worth 1000 words
Jim cursed under his breath as he weaved around groups people aimlessly clumped together, staring up at the skyscraper that loomed above them. He doesn't usually get so worked up. He doesn't mind tourists the way a lot of his coworkers seemed to. He actually enjoys watching people who've never been to the city see all the "tourist" stuff for the first time. The sense of awe and appreciation they have for the things he's been taking for granted his whole life remind him of how lucky he is to have grown up in the city. What he did mind was working near the Empire State Building, and-- now that he was late-- the amount of ducking and dodging it took to make it to the building's front door.
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
Lucinda's Choice
The courier van slid to a stop on the gravel in the trailer park. The driver looked around cautiously. Evening was giving way to night as the shadows lengthened around him. There were no external lights, and few shining from the trailers around his van.
By L. Lane Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
The Bucket List
She was walking down the streets of downtown Chicago as always did. After all, Marissa loved the city and encapsulating its beauty by walking everywhere she possibly could. She needed to pick up a few things on her grocery list and noticed the forecast was calling for rain. As she came out of the corner store on Wabash & Ontario it started to downpour. Alongside of her was a gentleman, about the same age as her, hovering under the awning.
By Vanessa R. Powell5 years ago in Fiction
How Bitcoin Saved Christmas
This slight off-season tale goes like this: 'Twas the 10th day of Christmas, and all wasn't well in the North Pole. In the crack of dawn, the smell of fresh uprising had wafted higher than the aroma of Mrs. Claus's cookies. Santa had known this day would come, but this soon? Good thing he was prepared. He had a plan. Sure, the elves would need some convincing, but he could do that. He was Saint Nicholas, after all. With a deep breath, he fixed his hat one last time and entered his workshop.
By Sneha Pradhan5 years ago in Fiction
