All Stories, General Fiction

The Broken Piece of Me by Doyin Ajayi

For Ann

That sound, sharp.

It slices through the air like a whip. It jolts me awake. I haven’t gotten used to it. The harmattan wind blows through the open windows. I rub my shoulders and try to warm my body up.  The huge searchlight in the yard casts a shadow of the cashew tree on the walls. The branches spook me. They’re wraiths reaching for me, their pointed tips looking like spears aimed at me, reaching for my soul. A woman’s scream. Sergeant Wasiu’s gun cocks again. He’s the chief of the guards – a cruel man with gallows humour. The creeping feeling rises up in me again. The night’s quietness is eerie. The woman’s screams are louder now, they’re bloodcurdling.

The gun roars. Her screams stop abruptly.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction

The Lost Voice by Brooke Gilbert

It was his accent she noticed first. She was walking past, carrying a tray of drinks to a nearby table. He was deep in conversation with another woman, but she slowed her steps at the sound of his soft vowels, his rising and falling intonation. He was British, maybe Scottish, she wasn’t sure, she had never been to the UK, she had barely left Pennsylvania, but she liked his accent. It was foreign, sophisticated.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Good for the Garden by T.G. Roettiger

In the low light of early evening, Micki Gehl strolled along the path that ran from her house to the first of her three chicken coops, tossing scratch feed to her hens. Chickens were the love of her life. Their attention provided all the affection she needed and their eggs, along with the apples from her orchard, provided all the income she needed. An extensive garden supplied most of her food. She smiled a bit to herself; she truly enjoyed her life.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction

Did You Hear Me? By Mick Bennett

It’s dusk and Gail’s probably pitching a bitch by now anyway, so Carl stops down the street from their walk-up and takes a moment to examine his new sunburn in the lighted courtesy mirror. He can’t help smiling.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Black Coffee | Hēi Kāfēi by T.L. Tomljanovic

Cigarette smoke curls up in front of my face like curtains parting on a stage. I lower my hand to my drink and shift on the hard metal stool facing the band.

The western world may have quit cancer sticks, but Shanghai is a throwback to a wilder time, and I throw myself right into it. I take another drag off my latest addiction– clove cigarettes. I soak up the nicotine, the syrupy sweetness of my rum and coke, and the atmosphere. I like sitting by myself swirling the ice in my drink and smoking. It’s a nice contrast to my workdays spent corralling dozens of shouting, laughing, and crying preschoolers.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Whiplash by Bryn Ledlie

This is it. I have nothing left to say. I have no new thoughts. The words “Stop, Stop it, Please Stop Please Stop” ring out in my brain blaring again and again every time something new enters my mind. An alarm I cannot silence, a desperate prayer I cry out endlessly. I don’t think I’m talking to him; I think I’m talking to me. Violently begging my brain to stop firing, misfiring the way that it does. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

So Many Girls in Leotards by Clarisse Gamblin

“Can I kiss you?” he had asked, staring down at her in that affable, yet intimidating, way.

Ilsa often thought about what might have happened had she responded differently, or if Abigail hadn’t walked in just moments later. She even wondered sometimes if she had heard him correctly. He had said it so softly it was hard to tell. But knowing what she knew now, it made sense, in a terrible, messed up sort of way.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

Haunt Me Like You Hate Me by Alex Sinclair

“Men are gold, and women are white cloth. Gold, once sullied, can be cleaned and polished, while white cloth, once soiled and torn, can never be clean again.”

 Khmer proverb

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All Stories, General Fiction

Kenny Women by Fiona McGarvey

Amber Kenny was a timid child. She had a round face and hair to match her name. Every night she prayed for her wild, orange curls to turn dark and straight but every morning they bounced back into place, redder than ever.

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Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Coronation Day by Allison Collins

I left a woman in bed recently. Suddenly. Left her lying, hips scooping toward something I couldn’t give her.

I’d been mouthing the rungs of her ribcage, climbing higher, an ardent mountaineer, when she shifted and with her, the light. The blue glow of the stereo conspired with the beams of a passing car and her arching spine to reveal the vase, winking in the corner. Her exposed neck bloomed white as the skin on the back of mine chilled.

I could just make out the glint of quick-blinking eyes as she took in the sight of me, hopping away and into a pant leg, then feeling for the doorknob in the dark.

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