Category: General Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction

At the Barn in Winter by Michael Barrington

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She was asleep now, her head leaning on his outstretched arm, her delicate, dainty fingers finally relaxing their grip on his huge, calloused hand. The musky scent of her beautiful, long hair, she was so proud of it, stirred up old memories of happier times. He knew every inch of her face, her lovely, big brown eyes that always seemed so full of wonderment, her delicate lips…. He was afraid to move for fear of awakening her, but he needed to relieve his numbing arm. And to do so quickly before being forced to make some abrupt movement that might disturb her. It was pitch black…. He mustn’t turn on the light.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction

The Dog Who Could Draw by Stephen J Kimber

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The dog never speaks without a pencil in his paw. On good days he may draw for you a line, a rectangle, a box, a room that becomes; what do you want? Might it be a bodega in some Latin American country, a taverna, a shack where drinks and mescal are served, a room where women also give away their forgetfulness potions. He is never quite precise as to which, and the voice that accompanies the blossoming picture is merely shading pencil.

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All Stories, General Fiction

 Cycle by Frederick K Foote

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I was a son of segregation born in a small Virginia village. My heritage was discrimination without the possibility of assimilation.

At age six, on my first day at our all-Black school, I played the fool and set myself down beside a strange, weird creature named Bernice Lighthorse.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Return to the Lakehouse by Adam Kluger

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The meme had been replaying again and again in Booger’s mind. 

“They are eating the cats, eating the dogs, eating the pets in Springfield.” 

It was about 50 days away from a quite consequential presidential election. 

Bugowski was pushing 60 and he was just as big a mess as he always was.

“Have you read the secret life of plants?” Rooster asked Booger as they unloaded the cooler full of Pabst Blue Ribbon, Poland Spring with  lime (the most carbonated of all seltzers) and all the other boxes, bags and items for another guy’s weekend. “The plants communicate through chemical emissions, I read an excerpt…not surprising given their predominant place on the planet and the way they all live together harmoniously…beautifully, really.” 

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Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Week 541: They Are Dripping Me Insane

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Insanity

I have lived in the same apartment since October 1998. That was not by design, but it has worked out that way. Until I settled here, I had not lived in one space longer than four consecutive years, including childhood. Something always happened; nothing has yet to happen here. The building was sold last year, but it was just a case of meeting a new boss, the same as the old boss.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction

Is There Anybody There? By Michael Smith

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Acacia knew her calling from the age of ten. Noticing all her clothes were labeled ‘MEDIUM’ and, being a highly impressionable girl, she naturally assumed the universe, or possibly a parallel one, was offering a clear hint as to her correct career path.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Alterations by JD Clapp

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I was looking out the front window, watching the snow fall, waiting for the mailman to come with my disability check. Jesus, the snow is sticking now, and my tires are bald. I needed to deposit that check today. I was out of food, running low on whiskey, and I still owed Mrs. Schmidt half the rent for this little shithole of a duplex. Fuck my life. Then, I got the call.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Hannibal, Missouri by: Amber Bell

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“Follow me,” a broad-shouldered woman wearing a name tag that said Deborah told Jade.

Jade followed her through a glass door, past a man working a register, and down a hall lined with half-open boxes.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Silver-Lined Ridge by Matthew J. Richardson

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Fluttering canvas frames a view that has tugged at Ralph Nilsen’s dreams. The mountain is dark against the star-smeared sky, curved like a sickle, beckoning. Ralph permits himself a few moments to glance upwards, to watch the spindrift pluming across the Milky Way. Moments are all Ralph has. He will not be back, not for another season, not when he is within three hundred vertical metres…

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