All Stories, General Fiction

In Polite Company at the End of the World by Laurel Hanson

“The serving girl’s run off,” Cathryn said as she set the tea tray down on the blackened linen, “so I’ll be mother.”

Her guests inclined their heads politely and she poured, apologizing for the lack of sugar. “It’s the war of course, not a lump to be had for love nor money.” Her guests murmured softly. They understood, but still, it was frightfully embarrassing not to serve a proper tea. Why, she even had to make do with buttered bread instead of cucumber sandwiches.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Silence That Shaped Me by Torsaa Emmanuel Oryiman

Why would life be so unfair to me? What have I done to deserve all this pain and, hardship? Sometimes I sit alone, lost in the quiet hum of the night, questioning every breath I take, every step I make. I search my heart for answers that never come, and the silence feels heavier than words. 
What sin did I commit to be born into such deprivation?

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Eclipsing Indy by Christopher Ananias

A lot of strange people flowed into Indianapolis for the solar eclipse. Not to mention, the “I-70 Killer” circling the city, with his fangs out, on the long swooping bypasses. The teenager Treat met Roger, a religious drug addict, at a Spaghetti joint on Lex Avenue.  

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All Stories, General Fiction

A Final Thing by Adam Kluger 

She wants to meet on Friday at a restaurant. 

We have to talk. 

About what I wonder. 

Could it be that after all these years she has had enough? 

Enough of buying groceries and cooking you delicious meals

Enough of walking in the park

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All Stories, General Fiction

Waiting for Robert Nix by Héctor Hernández

The discovery of skeletal remains in the woods near the Quitipea River has brought back memories of Robert Nix. I knew him as a kid and thought he was just weird at first—we all did, even the teachers. It was only later that I—and I alone—discovered he was actually insane; I just didn’t know the depth of that insanity, not back then, anyway. I know now.

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All Stories, Fantasy

Timeless Sympathy by Hana Carolina

Our house was what dreams were made of—a hazy vision of lost grandeur, countless rooms, and long corridors leading to an airy parlour. A crumbling gilded ceiling glittered in the light seeping through tall windows. A polished table with a deep, glassy sheen, where I sat my laptop, stood on the elegant curve of Queen Anne’s legs. Georgian bookcases were crowded with dusty oil lamps, their glass chimneys catching the cold, sterile shine of fairy LED lights. A heavy marble fireplace, its mantle cluttered with birthday cards, roared into the night.

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All Stories, Fantasy

Eight-Ball Blues by Frederick K Foote

Tuesday. It was as dead as a doornail Tuesday night in my bar, The Rusty Spur. No games, fights, or anything else worth watching on the TV. No controversy or shenanigans in our town or county worth the spit needed to talk of them. It was as if this part of West Texas was caught in a kind of dull-as-dust malaise.

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