All Stories, General Fiction

The Accident by Courtney Jean Day

‘Andrew, we need to talk.’

Andrew pauses for a moment, glaring at the torn Skinny Puppy poster he has taped to the inside of his locker. He feels like complete and total ass. He’d been up much too late the night before, doing bong hit after bong hit alone in his room, studying The Anarchist’s Cookbook in confused fascination. Just think of it – kablooe! He’d set it off in the Headley-Royce parking lot where the school royalty congregates, sitting on the hoods of their sixteenth-birthday Mercedes, sneering down at him as he trudges up the hill from the bus stop.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction

Nevermind by Matt Liebowitz

I’ve been thinking a lot about Kurt Cobain. Not so much how he ended it, that lonely moment above the garage, surrounded by impenetrably dense, green, tall trees, surrounded by nobody. Not that, as I sit in the stall nearest the far window, the toilet closed, my knees bent so my Target sneakers don’t show beneath the door.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Mind the Gap by Angela Townsend

There are facts as cool as gravity: If you drop a jam lid, it will fall jammy-side down. Humans make many myths. The guy who takes senior photos will be the single creepiest guy your senior has ever met.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Nobody Ever Retires, Even After They’re Dead [1] by J Bradley Minnick

Mr. Balding, our 5th grade Social Studies teacher, was so old that the Germans shot the hair from his head on two separate occasions and in two separate wars. Mr. Balding was so old that he hated and despised discussing his age. He was so old that the hairs in his ears had fossilized and had grown longer than the hair on his head. He was so old that his cataracts had cataracts. He was so old that he couldn’t remember being our age. And, yet, in a weak attempt to connect to what he imagined to be our violent sensibilities, once a month, or so, some military and patriotic force compelled him to tell gory and graphic war stories from behind the full view of the obit page of Peoples Gazette—our local and irregularly published bi-weekly.

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All Stories, Horror

Lions and Zebras by Charlize L. Love

Henry loved school; it was his favorite thing in the whole world. He was only ten years old, but he was ahead of the rest of his class. The teachers had said so themselves, he heard it in their hushed conversations, he read it on the stacks of papers they keep on their desks. It made him feel good, he felt proud.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Half Moon Above Seoul Central Park by Yejun Chun

Everyone needs to cry. Everyone needs to cry because it is not easy to live by simply breathing in this modern world. Everyone becomes upset by something, usually the smallest things that went wrong. Something that was out of their control, something that was not scheduled. An argument with a lover on the morning breakfast table. A sudden insult from a close friend that went too far and the thoughts following the insult going even further inside the mind. It’s the small things. Usually.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Parent Interview by Jill Malleck

My last parent interview of the day was late, by a good twenty minutes, and the damn meeting was only booked for fifteen. Truth was, I didn’t care that Derek’s folks hadn’t shown. For two hours I’d spent fifteen-minute slots explaining to overly optimistic parents how they’d raised kids as dumb as doornails. Nothing I hated more than parent interviews, except teaching in the 8:30 am session. No science to it; try teaching teenage zombies.   

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The One with the Limp by R.C. Capasso

Enrique studied the faces around the table. The purchase committee dispensed their limited resources with utmost care. It was no surprise that the investment in another “staff” member should arouse such discussion.  They didn’t object to using androids in schools, especially in the internment facilities, where the headcounts of students exceeded all conscionable limits. Within the southeast sector alone, an android already functioned efficiently as a janitor and two, female in aspect, doled out cafeteria food.  The machine vetting the kids’ thin, government-issued bags at the building entrance possessed some enhanced intelligence.  Three monitored the scrappy stretch of ground called a play area. But to order one with a limp, for the lower grades…

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