Tag: Short Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction

The Talk Part Two by Frederick K Foote

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The Talk – part 1 

Mae’s back home and our abode’s now full of teen angst, motion, and noise. My daughter’s more than a handful, but Darin and I are glad to have her back at least for the first hour or so. I’m the primary custodial parent for both of our kids. However, my wife, Beth, has divorce decree defined vacation time with our children. Mae has blown off the last three vacation visits to her mother. To satisfy Beth’s angry demands and to avoid going back to court, I convince Mae to spend three weeks with her mother.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Receipt at Ogden’s Twist by Tom Sheehan

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Young Trace Gregson, thin and curly at eleven and generally happy-faced, cringed whenever he saw Dirty Molly Sadow. If there was such a thing as a bad witch about in the world, she was it. People said her toes were black with earth rich as The Hollow, and that she smelled foul as chicken leavings.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The Many Sad Fates of the Family Jones  by Lucy Caird

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My Mum didn’t die a peaceful death. She got bitten on her toe by a rattlesnake whilst walking through the big park at night in her flip flops. She didn’t have the cell phone with her because my Dad had it that night. The poison got into her veins and stopped her heart. The next time when we saw her, she was all stiff and puffy. But her face was angry, most likely about the cell phone, I think. My Dad says she comes back in the form of a hurricane every few years or so and it’s our goddammed duty to weather the storm. He says they can call ‘em whatever they want – Irma, Katrina, Harvey, but they all Hurricane Josephine to him.

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All Stories, Horror

The Box by L’Erin Ogle

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The Box arrives on his fiftieth birthday.

It is sitting on the desk in his office, wrapped in shiny black paper, adorned with a scarlet bow.  It is square, the kind of box that might contain a paperweight, or a large book, or a box of chocolates.

Really, it could be anything.

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All Stories, Fantasy

  The Hiring of May Witherspoon by Tom Chambless

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May liked to set out bits of meat for the big birds. It was one of her few pleasures. She would dice up some cheap round steak and set it out in cubes along the porch rail. The part she loved, the thing about the ravens she adored was, they left her presents. She left them food and they left her a fake pearl, a thimble, little shiny things.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction, Writing

Supply And Demand by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content

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“Just keep following this road Donna, it’ll be about another ten minutes.”

Claire stared at her. She could see worry, apprehension and fear. Her younger sister had the same look when she had first told her what she did.

Claire’s thoughts went back to where this had began.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

An Eye, For an Eye by Arthur Davis    

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They were on me at once, each with their own manner of eagerness and exerting their righteous belief in violence for violence’s sake.

They tore away at my shoulders and arms, beating, demanding I release my grip from Luky Roberts.

Some voices were familiar, most were strange and hostile, as I had come to expect in Compound RR4, one of the lightest secured cell units in the Saratoga Range District Penal System.

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All Stories, Latest News

Week 162 – Questionnaire Responses, Questions And Tension Headaches.

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We can’t thank you enough for the questionnaires!

Way to go guys!

So this posting will be very little pish, you know, the stuff that I normally write, it’ll be all about your input.

The response was so good that we have decided to answer the questions that you set for us next week. If we didn’t this could stretch to ten thousand words!! (And realistically, it gives the editors time to try and think of something witty and sage like. So no pressure Nik and Diane!! – I can feel the tension – Tramadol anyone?)

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Lamentation by A.E. Herting

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Even the sky grieved. Gray and bleak, the wind cried out in lamentation, sending leftover pockets of old snow onto stark marble gravestones. Mourners passed by, eyes forward, each lost in their own world of respectful sadness. They walked along in silent groups, no one engaging in small talk or forced levity. Their task was much too grave for such normal pleasantries.

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