All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

You Got That Right by Adam Kluger

Alyssa Doorumple was delicious.

To see her enlightening any sort of space or form of clothing was to experience a deep sense of want. To touch her, to smell her, to connect with Alyssa in any way she would allow.  Perfection in the female form. Ally-do, as known in Manhattan social circles, was simply scrumptious and the light that was always surrounded by frantic moths. Ally-do was the one you wanted to be photographed with and the name that was on most lips at any social function. AD to her closest friends and fans. If AD was making a party then that was a party to be at. AD was on the cover of all the society magazines because that’s what sells magazines. Magic. Beauty. Mystery.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The Sea by A. M. Smythe

There’s a heap of luggage unceremoniously dumped on the floor: a heterogenous mix of rucksacks, coats, shoes haphazardly placed into order. The clickity clack of a moving wagon indicates that arrival is imminent but not yet achievable. The window pane thrums with a barely concealed impatience for the wild swishing-night of the seaside. It’s an unplanned trip and everyone knows that all unplanned trips have a different sort of underbelly. And if time passes differently, if the group feels that they just rushed in when they rush out again, then that’s just part of it.

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Ronda 12 by David Henson

Ensign Ronda-12 tapped the door to the ready room as she entered. Her long, slender legs devoured the space to Captain Blade’s desk in five strides. The captain arched his eyebrows. “Sir,” she said, “you have to exempt Lt. Hickok from the Jalatis Large landing team.” More arching. She wondered if a human’s eyebrows could ever touch their hairline. “It’s too dangerous.”

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Apotheosis by Simon Levick

The fork in the display case glinted under the lights.  It rested on a shiny black plastic podium, and impaled on its tines was what appeared to be a human finger.  He was pleased with the finger and gave a grunt of satisfaction.  It was his own finger, pinkie of the left hand, plaster cast thereof.  Title of work: give/take/eat.  Listed in the catalogue as item no. 17, price £6,000.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Switch Hitter by Suzanne Nielsen

Rita Sajevic lost her mind on home plate at 5:15 pm, two days after dual interviews at competing churches.  She’d work the night shift cleaning 11 blocks from home.  All this was in shorthand on her palm faded by cherry red ink.  On her other palm was a tattoo of a fetus whose life ended tragically.  After Rita relived the event, outside of confession mind you, I swore to several saints never to retell that story to anyone.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Coeur de Lion by Chris Cleary

Magnificently justified, she teeters on the parapet of her limestone tower. The herd lows below, and in the autumn air all stands still except for Tom, who has spied her from a distance and now is racing to her rescue. Her foot shifts and slips a bit, sending down a pebble cascade, but her heart is strong, and she refuses to be petrified. She stares straight ahead at the hillside, where leaves fall from their trees, drifting, dropping, like children’s valentines into makeshift paper-bag mailboxes taped to her classroom wall many years before. Cards of teddy bears with hearts, Hello Kitty with hearts, blooming flowers with hearts, circus lions proclaiming, “You’re purr-fect!” Suppressing squeals, children scurry. Others’ bags fill up. In hers, not one. Eyes anchored on the hillside, all she sees is disregard. That and the teacher frowning with pity for poor Samantha San Gabriel, so shy and so odd.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Night of the Haunted by Michael McCarthy

It´s a balmy evening, there´s a couple leaning out of a dimly lit window at the side of a house overlooking an alley. They´re both naked and their heads are wreathed in smoke from their cigarettes, its effect heightened by the intermittent blinking of a faulty street light. You can´t even see the moon or stars.

Let´s call her Kate and him Daniel.

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