I was too young to remember the day my Granddad past away but the night my Gran died, the swans came.
I don’t mean that she had anything to do with them, it was just that I noticed them that night.
Category: Short Fiction
Behind Closed Doors by Hugh Cron
‘It’s been many a year since we had a day like today! It was a lovely wedding. You looked beautiful. It was an absolute pleasure dancing with you.
Passion at High Elm by Tom Sheehan
For the first time a daughter had broken the absolutely perfect line of seven generations of newborn Brindamour boys.
Mutla Ridge by Martin Rosenstock
He lowered the window an inch and the dry air now flowed past his temple. Though he had arrived in Kuwait five days ago, he was still feeling some jetlag edginess. The road stretched out flat and straight. Nature here had the color of an oatmeal cookie, most houses too. Some were a bit lighter in color, like an oatmeal cookie bleached in the sun. They formed an unbroken line right off the freeway, three-story facades with columns and small, frequently shuttered windows. None of this had been here back then. The country had come some way since Mr Sodamn Insane’s drubbing.
The Killers by Michelle Wilson
He was a peaceful baby with a face like Buddha who grew into a sensitive toddler: enormous eyes that took in everything and missed nothing. When he fell he cried, but he always recovered after the usual spell of tears.
What a precious child, we thought. Life will be hard on him.
Sun Glitter by Renato Barucco
The long reclusion started the night of the big scare, almost a year ago. Smoke detectors went off at two in the morning that Sunday. Mr. Hart was the first to head for the stairs and the last to get to the street, out of breath. Neighbors in nightclothes ran past him holding their kids, their pets, each other. As sirens approached Willow Street, tenants complained and swore under their breath, alarmed and annoyed, not a bit surprised, as though they expected all along that the kid in 3A would have done something stupid.
The Birds by Adam Kluger
Clint Cherbouger was not an ornithologist. He liked birds for the most part. Mostly ducks. Pigeons were kind of gross and there were too many of them.
Covered Dish by Michael Grant Smith
“Hey, neighbor!”
Jan from next door leaned against the split-rail fence. His pug Otis yapped. With each explosive bark, all four paws cleared the ground.
Collars And Cuffs by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content
“You’ve never told me why you and Chris split up?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but you’re hurting.”
“Don’t say that mum, I’m not fucking hurting.”
“…Sounds like your fine.”
Continue reading “Collars And Cuffs by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content”
The Hand of God by Dave Henson
The woman believed everything happened for a reason. She had to else she’d go crazy. She’d found her young boy face down in the pond out back. She reckoned he must’ve been trying to free the duckling tangled in the grabweeds when they snagged her son, too.
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