Tag: Short Fiction

Short Fiction

Week 429: More Awful Truth; Five Human Works and Beware of the Tippleganger

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More Awful Truth

When I was young and inexperienced in the fine art of self destruction, I believed that getting a book in print made you both famous and rich. Boiled down to its elemental flaw, this belief was based on the notion that writing a book good enough to land in the small library in Port Orchard, Washington (as unlikely a candidate to supplant The Great Library of Alexandria imaginable) must mean you are famous–ergo rich–for I assumed you could not be one without the other.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Scoundrel Through the Ages by Dan Shpyra

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I. Scoundrel

It is common knowledge that a man of high status but of the lowest of incomes is in need of a wife with a hefty dowry. Edgar Brown was no exception to the rule.

Mr. Brown was pacing the parlor, anxiously checking the time on his golden watch. It was one out of two fortunes left to him by his late father, William Brown: An aristocrat with a pitiful love of horse racing. It was not, however, the fortune of the watch, but rather the fortune of his looks, that got him this most desirable appointment. He was handsome, indeed: A tall young man with broad shoulders and luxuriant dark hair. Those two gifts, the golden timepiece and his pleasant looks, often brought him numerous acquaintances with the most agreeable young ladies. Mr. Brown was agitated nonetheless, for this time, the match was not to merely secure his evening but his future in its entirety.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Girlfriends by Donna Tracy

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Warning – References to suicide, bullying and self harm.

It is in the dead days between Christmas and New Year that Candy finally comes. The cat stands in the doorway, back arched, tail huge, hissing into the vacant space beside me and I know, even before I turn my head and see the pale shape in the tail of my eye, that it’s her. I am twenty-eight now, twice the age she will ever be. Perhaps I wanted to believe that she had forgotten.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Romance

Cinema by Evelyn Voelter

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I’m in our living room and the sun is hitting the couch in your spot just how you liked it. I always wanted to close the curtains so it wouldn’t fade the fabric, but today I leave them open, like you would’ve wanted. I suppose I’m daydreaming again because I swear I hear your voice. But when I turn to look at you, your spot is still empty.

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All Stories, General Fiction

A Sign of the Times by Hugh Cron

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She walked her dog, the same places, the same time at night and also first thing in the morning.

Those who knew her spoke, but the youngsters all had their heads down reading whatever pish was on their phones.

Garibaldi was a boxer and he wasn’t the brightest, but he made her laugh.

“Hi Ella, how’s it going?”

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Year of 13 by Lisa Shimotakahara

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When I was twelve I was cute. When I was thirteen I was ugly.

Acne whacked me. The cute me. The twelve me. It happened overnight. It happened so fast that inside I was still twelve. Still wide-eyed and twelve. Still wide-eyed and twelve and oh-so-underprepared.

My friends (friends!) called me Silly Putty. Me, with my shiny, bulbous, pink-colored face. Grinning like jackals, they called me Silly Putty.

How did this happen? Overnight! How did the canyon open? The open canyon. From twelve to thirteen. From cute at twelve to thirteen, bulbous.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Chicken by James Hannan

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‘What’s he doing out there?’ Jill says, as the tall figure of their father passes by the window.

‘Who cares?’

‘No, seriously Brendan, can you come have a look? He’s being weird again.’

‘He’s always being weird. Just ignore him.’ Brendan’s playing Fortnite. His eyes don’t leave the screen.

Jill gets up and goes to the window, sticking her face near to the frame so she can get a better angle. ‘See, see, he keeps walking around the house, looking under it from time to time.’

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All Stories, Horror

Miss by Keith LaFountaine

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And so she stands under the lamp post with her camera strapped around her neck and a candy cigarette tucked between her lips. That’s just for kids, isn’t it? But this woman certainly isn’t a kid. She has the look of a doting aunt. It’s in the eyes: the eerie combination of leering adoration and simmering jealousy.

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General Fiction, Short Fiction

Fifteenth Year by Jessica Cull

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I had been bleeding one year. Was told that made me a woman, but didn’t feel like one. Felt still small, my baby hair still soft. Light wisps on ice cream skin. Like the fluff of a wolf pup before it turns wiry in the winter, shedding its youth as its softness falls away. Maybe that was my bleeding. Maybe my softness was leaving me, replaced by black-red oozing and inside bruising.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, Fantasy

On Alternate Realities and Blocked Noses By Daniel Ashmore

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There is a truth about loneliness that is known fervently to all those suffering from it, and yet is forgotten the very moment we find ourselves free from its oppressive yoke. That is to say that being alone is not unlike having a blocked nose.

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