Tag: short story

All Stories, Science Fiction

Do Eros Sevens Dream Of Jupiter And Mars? by Adam West

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The two hundred and fifty kilometres per hour station-to-station no-turbulence pipe came to a stop. End of the line. Everyone off.

I stepped out the pipe onto a narrow walkway amongst a shoulder-to-shoulder throng six wide whose momentum funnelled me toward a down-ramp and into a square, where a girl with dreadlocks leaning against a 3-D sandwich-board bit through a foil wrapped protein bar – without first removing the foil.

Continue reading “Do Eros Sevens Dream Of Jupiter And Mars? by Adam West” →

All Stories, Horror

The Product by Victor Bort

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“Can you imagine someone who knows that he may be living his last year?”

The enquirer was sitting in a wheelchair opposite me – a man in his late forties to early fifties, broad-shouldered, dressed informally, black hair with streaks of silver grey, intense brown eyes, clean shaven.

“How old might he be,” he went on, “and what might be the reason for his imminent departure?”

He eyed me questioningly, an enigmatic smile on his pale, handsome face.

“I believe you’re not referring to yourself,” I smiled back.

He grinned broadly and chortled, “Well, a bit of sarcasm won’t spoil the pleasure of our interaction.” He pressed one of the buttons on the arm of his wheelchair and moved closer. “Are you really sure you want this?

Now, he was staring at me intently, unblinkingly. “Let’s put it this way: Are you adamant in your decision?” Continue reading “The Product by Victor Bort” →

All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Old Man by Scott Sharpe

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Rust-orange scales litter the ground beneath the pine – sign of the squirrel’s search for the sweet seeds found tucked beneath the cone’s thorny lobes.  The scales fall like heavy snowflakes, twirling and seesawing to the forest floor.  As I raise my eyes to the bushy-tail sitting astride a pine limb, I’m thankful he’s ignorant of my presence and his certain death.  He’ll feel no pain, for I don’t miss.

Not anymore. Continue reading “The Old Man by Scott Sharpe” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Dover by Michael W Smith

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I was sat at a table in a service station café off the M20, on route to Dover, waiting for Angelika to return with the coffee. The seat beneath me was small, with a round foam cushion and flat metal back. Outside, through the window that stretched the length of the cafe, I could see our campervan parked in the rain. In the dim morning light it appeared grey. We’d been on the road since six, as the sun bled into the sky, and had made good time. We were twenty miles from Dover when the temperature gage hit the red and the warning light came on. Continue reading “Dover by Michael W Smith” →

All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

A Gift For Cheyenne by Nik Eveleigh (Adult Content)

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I know you’re watching me.

My eyes don’t work like they did in my twenties but I can still see you pushing up against my kitchen window, gawping. I should’ve pulled the curtain before I sat down but no matter. The glass could do with a lick but you can see the bars through it just like the others. And you can see me clear enough. Continue reading “A Gift For Cheyenne by Nik Eveleigh (Adult Content)” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Friday by Jane Dougherty

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There are some lives that don’t begin in earnest until they are almost over. Time is almost used up before the moment is reached, the decision taken that will give life some meaning. Until that moment, only holiday snaps show that time has moved at all. Children grow up, then move away and there are no more holidays, no more snaps. Time passes unnoticed. Continue reading “Friday by Jane Dougherty” →

All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Dilemma – An Experiment by Hugh Cron

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The woman cuddled the sleeping child who was oblivious to the man pointing the gun. The father stared and reasoned and wondered if he could. The other man also sat looking for an opportunity. The gunman stepped back and sat down in the armchair.

“Don’t even think about it folks. I know how to use this. I don’t panic and please forgive my arrogance but I am a damn good shot. I won’t miss.”

“What do you want?”

The father tried to keep his voice steady.

“I will get to that but let me first say, you are simply unlucky. I have nothing against any of you. But having just finished your barbecue, sitting having a drink and me seeing you is all that it has taken.”

She pulled the kiddie closer. Continue reading “Dilemma – An Experiment by Hugh Cron” →

All Stories, Horror

The Bargain by Diane M Dickson

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I want to show you a picture of me, before.  When I was young, well truth to tell maybe not so young but oh I was a looker, a real looker.  I bet you won’t believe it was me and you’ll think how did she end up like this, now?

Ha, I guess you can say it was greed did it, or just plain wickedness.  Yes, to be fair it was greed.  I just wanted more, more of everything really but mostly time, but even that wasn’t enough.  I wanted time that was unspoiled, without the slow rot.  So there we have it, everything has a price, and a time comes to pay and so it did.  I’ll tell you now, just what it was like. Continue reading “The Bargain by Diane M Dickson” →

All Stories, Historical

Madam Panagoulias and the Pithos by Adam West

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“May I?”

The man took a step towards the jar.

“You will be careful with it, won’t you?”

“A closer look, that is all. I know it’s worth a small fortune, what, at least…”

“…At least a jolly large amount I shouldn’t imagine and wouldn’t like to say.”

“Well I will say, Madam Panagoulias. Put my cards on the table so to speak.”

“As you wish.” Continue reading “Madam Panagoulias and the Pithos by Adam West” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Post by Jenny Morton Potts

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Final credits. Show’s all but over. One last tune from Ed’s iPod and the crematorium doors widen. I’m going where the sun keeps shining, through the pouring rain. Randall lurches outside, wobbles in a thank-god patch of sunshine. Going where the weather suits my clothes. The family shuffle themselves into a line-up: the deceased’s mother reaching just the shoulder of the deceased’s wife. Ed’s brother next? Very tall and looks a little like him. Ed’s children, the daughter only up to her uncle’s waist. A face she loves interrupts the protocol and the little girl’s smile slashes the dark fabric of today. Ed’s son, adolescent and alone at the end, arms meshed over the outrage in his gut. Here now we see the stiff bar chart of the family, offering some kind of analysis. Continue reading “Post by Jenny Morton Potts” →