All Stories, General Fiction

End by  A. Elizabeth Herting

Sterling Redmond Calico lay sprawled out on his stain-covered recliner, his limbs heavy and lethargic. The poison was snaking its way through his body, he could see with an artist’s imagination its slow and determined march through his veins. Thick, black and ominous, destroying him cell by cell as Red caressed his cheek on the cool salvation of a half-empty beer can. He could see the snow falling fast through the single cracked window in his rent controlled, shitty third floor walk-up. The flakes made neon-white streaks, flying in rapid succession like a warp-speed trip on the Millennium Falcon.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Love? Don’t Make Me Laugh by Alex Barr

First time I laid eyes on Alanna, I thought, There’s a woman I want to saw in half.

She was in the audience, one leg in plaster stuck out into the aisle. After the show I watched her leave, expecting her to walk like a pair of compasses, but somehow she moved so gracefully everyone else looked awkward. I sent my assistant to catch her at front of house but she claimed she missed her, ha ha. And that’s where I should have left it. Stopped thinking about her. I  keep going over it, how I might have escaped this God-awful mess, financial and . . . yes, yes, all right, all the rest.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction

A Strange Way to say I Love You by Matthew Senn

Harper Gillespie, newly fourteen, rode up to a place locals called Baby’s Bush to meet two of his friends: Dave Erich and Robinson Pike, both of whom were several years older. The bush stood in the middle of a field between two lines of pines. Almost as big as a house, they said every time someone tried to cut the bush down, they would have to stop because they heard a baby crying.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Peculiar Folk by Frederick K Foote

If I was better educated–or at least paid closer attention during what education I received–I’d know all the words the professors use to describe and sometimes drain the blood out of the written word. I am certain that there are fancy definitions for what goes on in Frederick K. Foote’s Peculiar Folk, but, really, in the end, no matter what something may be in the scientific sense, does it walk when you read it is still the most important thing of all.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Peephole by Tim Frank

Her forehead stretched and arced into a pale rainbow and her hair lengthened into a dark mane.  Her eyes and nose shimmered, while her mouth melted towards her sagging chest.  Her clothes were random brushstrokes of ruby red and deep green.  And then in a warped flash, she was gone.

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All Stories, Historical

The Seventh Wave by AJ Lyndon

Port Fairy, Victoria 1859

I am grown now; and the sperm whales and the southern rights that brought the ships here seeking their precious oil and the bones which make corsets for ladies in far-away places no longer visit. But still the people come, and the farming settlement thrives. Port Fairy, named for a sea captain who landed in this spot, part of the Port Phillip District in the great southern land.

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General Fiction, Short Fiction

Good News Club by Leila Allison

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Mom was a world class liar. Once in a lifetime. She believed that a solid lie should have few moving parts; this theory allowed her to capitalize on the specious notion that true-sounding things are brief. Mainly, Mom got her whoppers over with a confident attitude,brevity and something in her eyes that told you not to fuck with it further.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

A Saddle in the Desert by Tom Sheehan

He was in the sparse land between shifting sands of the great desert and the last tree bearing green when he saw the vultures descending from their high flight. Breward Chandler, “Brew” to friends back in the mountains where breathing was much easier than here in the midst of little life, sat bareback on an Indian pony he had freed from a natural corral behind a blow-down. Chandler had learned that the horse would obey pulls on his mane and in this manner he had escaped from sure capture by heading into the desert, with his pistols loaded and a lariat and a canteen he had grabbed on the run. He was not sure who was after him, either renegade Indians or renegade whites out for the kill, looking for guns, clothes, saddles, anything for free. He was hoping that they’d measure the little he might have against the rigors of a chase in the desert. Perhaps, he also hoped, they were smarter than he thought they were.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Pooboogle by Adam Kluger

Adam Kluger’s Pooboogle is a first class example of the ray of light finding a down and outer kind of story. A form probably first thought up by one of the girls on the Ark. Yet Adam has not only updated the shape to fit the times, he still manages to find something new to say. I can’t locate specific examples (maybe the six fingered guy) as much as I got a refreshing vibe from the story. Maybe it is because of all the sour tales out there which attempt relevance by conveying steady rain and suicidal tendencies.

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