Tag: short story

All Stories, Historical

Icarus by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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”Another one, Mickey.” Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Yea I’m sure. Throw on another one. It needs to support the weight and account for winds, so throw on another one.”

“I’ll never get the speed high enough to take flight.”

“Sure you will. You’ve been practicing?”

“Yes. I’m fast. How are your motors coming along?”

“Don’t worry about them. You just keep focusing on staying on track at that velocity.”

Althea walked out from the cabin, kissed James on the cheek and placed a tray on the table. “How are you boys doing?”

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Swallow (For Matty) by Todd Levin

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Matty wasn’t a very good friend. We’d sit up late and watch these old movies in black and white and sometimes all-new colour and even though I sat right in front of him, he’d throw popcorn and pillows at my head and the feathers would fly everywhere. My mother couldn’t deal with the mess and I always took the blame for him.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Gulls Cry by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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The gulls cry. The waves and the winds of mid-July rinse the sand as I lie on the beach stretching my fingers, reaching and touching white foam. It recoils just as my fingertips graze it. Back into the ocean. The gulls cry and the lighthouse flashes, calling home. The sky is empty yet filled with everything. The salt and the sand polish stones as smooth as my memory of the touch of her cheeks.

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Unit 4207’s Failed Assignment by Piyali Mukherjee

Nik

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Decrypted sections of the file are as follows:

Data log attributes: Begun on 5787th day of 23rd Lunar Cycle

Type: Personal

Today was the day I started on the gene project. It was not as complicated as I expected. Unit 5481 tells me the beginning is always easy. All you have to do is choose the number of genes you want to work with. It’s maintaining the culture that’s the nightmare.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Village by Tobias Haglund – Adult content

Tobias Haglund

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”You see this meadow, boy? It was a swamp before we moved here. One of the conditions for buying the mansion and the adjoining land was that I paid to have it fixed and also the beach. You enjoy the beach, right boy? The restoration of the pier as well. How do the villagers repay us? They let their dogs shit on the meadow. They shit on the meadow, boy. They want me to pick it up… Look out the window! There’s Andersson with his ugly daughter.” Erik stopped and rolled down the car window. “HEY! Andersson! Pick up after your shitty daughter’s shitty dog! Or I will empty my septic tank all over your ugly house. I’d do you that favour. The shit glaze would probably raise the property value.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Just Going for a Cabbage by Diane M Dickson

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When she left home Briony hadn’t meant to leave so – well, quite so permanently.  She went to the shop to buy a cabbage. A medium sized drumhead was what she had in mind, although in fairness there was an option for cauliflower. Dinner was beef, already in the cooker, rich and redolent, herby and delicious. Beef, Beef in beer for Dick and to go with it mashed potatoes and cabbage. His favourite.

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All Stories, Historical

And the Rocks Came – by Lee Conrad

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When my father came home from work and said we were going to a concert I was thrilled. It was to take place upstate along the Hudson River in a town called Peekskill. To get out of our stuffy Brooklyn apartment at the end of summer was heaven-sent. I didn’t know dark times were swirling around us.

“You’re going to love the concert David. Paul Robeson is going to sing,” said my father.

“Are you sure Frank? You saw what happened the other night,” said my mother.

“It will be fine. More of us will be there and we can’t let them get away with this can we? After all this is America,” he said.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Old Man In The Park by Nik Eveleigh

Nik

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“Of course you can talk to him, off you go.”

“Thanks daddy!”

I watch as Daniel sprints away. Head down. Arms pumping. Balance ready to fail him at any given moment. Adrenaline fires my heart as he skids on a pine cone at pitch-forward-and-split-head distance from the wooden bench. I breathe again as he thrusts his hands forward and climbs laughing onto the seat and gives the old man a hug who, in return, as usual, pats my son’s head and continues to stare at the trees lining the park.

“I got a book from the library today it’s about a dog and Charlie wanted it but I got it first and gave it to my teacher and…”

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