Joy’s eyes were stinging from the stench of urine. She was hoping it was from her mother’s three tiny dogs, but suspected the mutts weren’t the only ones who’d been incontinent.
Tag: Short Fiction
UKHU PACHA by Andreea Daia
Pahuac rested his head on the sacrificial stone. He would have to go through this if he wanted to find his way back home. Why couldn’t he remember?
Lessons by Carole Glasser Langille
Setsuko was twenty years older than me but she looked my age or younger. When I was first at university my brother came by and started talking to me when Setsuko was giving me a violin lesson in my practice room. He thought I was performing in front of a friend.
The Palm Reader by Julie Howard
“Ahhh.” The palm reader sighed heavily. Such was his power that we all exhaled lightly with him, and then leaned forward to hear what would come next.
The 3 a.m. Litterateur by Tony Conaway
The snow reflects the moonlight and the sound of my boots. “I am,” I mutter to myself, “Zhivago, tromping from Yuriatin back to Moscow in the unforgiving Russian winter.”
She has a chain link fence around her place. It’s little more than waist-high; meant to keep her dogs in, not people out. In my condition, it only takes me about fifteen minutes to traverse it. After several attempts, I manage to fall on the inside of the fence.
G-PTSD by Jeffrey Lehrberg
The psychiatric community doesn’t have a name for my problem. Please believe me when I say I’ve looked. Medical journals (both antiquated and current), multiple expert opinions—I even went so far as obtaining and translating some of Kraepelin’s unpublished case reports from the turn of the century—it all leads nowhere. The closest I’ve come is Morgellons syndrome, but that isn’t right. The reality of my condition is much worse than any disease of the mind.
Origin Story by Daniel Tobin.
The following has been taken from a series of verbal testimonials in the regards to the disappearance of David Thomas, 25, reported missing on April 30th, 2016, as well as in regards to a number of other supposedly connected events.
Liquid Memory by Christopher Dehon
I pulled up to the 7/11 and realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ordered an Icee. I mixed Coke and Strawberry into the biggest cup they had. I remembered when Cheyenne and I were in middle school how we used to mix this with the vodka her mom never bothered to lock up. The girl behind the counter looked like she’d recently graduated from high school, although she held herself with a toughness beyond her years. She’d either shrunk her uniform shirt on purpose or lied about her size, because I could see her belly button ring on her washboard stomach. I looked at the half-eaten nachos behind her and figured she only had a few more years to look like this. She didn’t ask where I was going or where I’d come from. When she handed me my change, I noticed the frenzy of old cuts on her left arm. These weren’t those superficial, privileged, symmetrical cuts girls in my high school had. These were frantic and left her arm looking like an old cutting board. These were the cuts that you get when your uncle’s bent you over a couch for a year and no one believes you. I thought about giving her a hundred dollar bill to impress her. I could tell her where I was headed. She’d be touched and give me her number, and then…what? I threw a pack of Cheyenne’s brand of smokes on the counter, paid with a twenty, and left.
All They Wanted was Angry Meat by Piyali Mukherjee
“What was all that fury on our sensors about?”
“A Viridian delegation from Viridian Prime unveiled at close range, sir.”
“Viridian Prime?”
Continue reading “All They Wanted was Angry Meat by Piyali Mukherjee”
A Witness by Dyaus Rai
Jim sat in the living room with his gun on the coffee table staring at the wall. He had just locked her in his bedroom and was contemplating his next move.
literally stories 