It’s strange how a summer’s day can be unsettling. Especially amongst the shadows of the trees. The bird song is sweet but I don’t like it. The breeze is warm but it chills me and even though I am cold, I’m covered in sweat.
Tag: general fiction
Death in the Shadows by Tom Sheehan
The Texas evening carried grace and expectation as the sun moved on its last legs; soft shadows fell from all heights as though they were cotton balls shaped into vague contours, and a hush moved across the land the way mystery crawls, unknown, unsure of where to put down its feet, looking for contestants in the arena where life is lived a good part of the time. In Trinity Cove, Texas, it was The Wild Eye Saloon, a catch-all for what the west brings to dry throats, hungry cowpokes, desperate criminals, sneaky card players, and a few ladies lost in the game of life.
Scotch on the Rocks by Bruce Levine
I wanted to laugh. I had no idea why. There was no apparent reason, but I had an inordinate desire to laugh.
It had been a strange day.
Drag by Patrick Winters
Taking one last drag, Joe flicked the butt between his fingers out into the yard. He weaseled out his keys, unlocked the front door, and stepped inside his house. The old man was waiting for Joe the moment he walked into the kitchen.
The Louder You Scream by Martyn Clayton
Every girl loves a showman reckoned Big Micky Taverne.
Stand behind their car as the waltzer takes a group of them up and down. Watch as they huddle up, heads rested on shoulders, screaming in unison. One if not all will be giving you the glad eye, willing you on. Come on they’re saying, give us a spin. So, you do and they scream so loud it would burst your eardrums if they weren’t already bust from the music.
The Deep End by Sarah Dara
Note: There is some Urdu used in this piece. Translation is provided at the end of the prose.
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My toes sank into the warm sand. I wiggled them in deeper, walking toward the fierce body of water ahead. The sand became cold and wet. Wind blew against my face; echoes of the past whispering in my ears. I brushed my hair aside and started to move towards the ultramarine waves. My family called to me as I neared the sea. Shouts of ‘what are you doing,’ ‘come back,’ ‘it’s too dangerous’ were heard spreading in the wind, but I kept going. Waves tickled my feet as I wandered deeper and deeper. The sand beneath my feet vanished and I was paddling. The sea enveloped me. Waves struck me violently. I was deep enough. I stopped paddling.
Dudes Chilling by David Turko
It was a few weeks ago I made the conscious decision to start trying. After that things went miserably downhill. My girlfriend that I now realize was hardly my girlfriend – more like girl I slept with semi-regularly – left me; I was fired from my mindless dead end job – which was somewhat liberating until I realized it meant I was unemployed; I was broke – which is surprisingly common among twenty-somethings but that didn’t make it any more tolerable; and I was having mood swings that made me question my sanity. I was feeling the dreaded weight of the real world settle on my shoulders and I knew this wasn’t something I could just shrug off.
Without a job, girlfriend, or any money, I did what any responsible almost-adult would do and moved back in with my parents in my hometown of Vancouver. My parents were cordial, and kindly informed me I had two weeks to find a place before they would start charging rent.
Two Too Many by Brenda Catron
“So what brings you here today?”
Marguerite, as she told us to call her, was one of those confident women who left you with the impression they always had it together. I was pretty sure I didn’t like her already. Marguerite. Who names their kid that anyway.
Annie’s Shoes by Donna Aversa
The remarkable thing about catalogues is that Annie could lose herself in the glossy possibilities of the pages. She could pretend that her body, swollen by the side-effects of the steroid treatments, once again could wear the same styles that the impeccably tailored models did. And that she had someplace to wear them. The brunette in the cardinal-red cashmere-blend twin-set with three-quarter sleeves didn’t judge. She had a half-smile that welcomed anyone, even Annie, to copy her look. The paisley scarf is available on page 27 where inset photos show just how to wrap it in three simple steps. The classic black pointed toe pumps are on page 56.
The Poet by Adam Kluger
The city was hot. But not like last week. Humid, sticky, murderous.
Bart walked the streets.
The warm stench of urine wafted up from the grates over the subway.
Trudy was working.
She was always working.
literally stories 