Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
JACK OF DIAMONDS
Chap4 - Pt2 (ARE SEETHING FOR CONTENTION...) ii The roads were a boggy mess. Niles was grateful to have taken the Triumph rather than using Charlie’s Austin under the circumstances. There were times he’d had to get off the bike and push it out of the mud, reminding himself of his time at the Front serving as a motorcycle courier. It had been much the same as this on a good night, he told himself. He couldn’t imagine what the trip out would’ve been like in the Austin. He hoped the doctor wouldn’t have any troubles. The man was far too old and frail to be pushing his auto out of the mud. Still, the night was clear, and any threat of the rain they’d been having for the past three days was blown out to sea by a calm wind coming up from the south. A waning moon hung above the horizon, lighting his way as if it was a dull street lamp lost in the distance. The soft light enabled him to see and avoid the larger puddles and potholes, and he wondered how long it would take the current government to deliver on their promise of an extensive roadway connecting all of England. It was a project that would literally be years in development, and would cost millions, but a cost well worth it, he thought.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
HIGH WATCH
The fighting atop Highcliff was over . The heroes had won a great victory by surprising the Tarnakian Army in their own slave encampment. The prize for victory was more than to win a plot of land for humanity; to ambush the Tarnakian savages at their own camp had liberated the slaves as well.
By Kent Brindley5 years ago in Fiction
Widow's Walk
Holly led me up the stairs to the widow’s walk on top of her house. It was our place to get away… or at least as far away as a pair of ninth graders were going to get. We liked to come up to the little structure built on top of the old house to sit. We would hold hands, sometimes kiss… knowing any moment her father or her mother could climb the steps and see us.
By L. Lane Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
JACK OF DIAMONDS
CHAP 4 - PT 1 (ARE SEETHING FOR CONTENTION...) i Nigel Bannister looked up from the picture he was drawing, watching the hallway closely; he could still hear the echo of the door slamming downstairs. He had the lights dimmed somewhat, thinking there was no need having all the lights on, not with everyone at the fair. It was the major reason he’d volunteered to stay behind and answer whatever calls might come in—knowing there’d be none because of the fair. It gave him a chance to study the police procedurals he’d neglected for far too long. He wasn’t planning on spending the rest of his career in the middle of Devon. He had his mind set on London. The only way he’d be noticed was if he were to make a name for himself, and the only way for him to do that, was to understand the newest breakthroughs in law enforcement. But he was easily distracted and soon found himself drawing another picture--a face in the crowd as he liked to call it.
By ben woestenburg5 years ago in Fiction
What I've Become
Fear is defined as an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that something or someone is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat. Courage is acting not in the absence of fear, but in spite of it. So why is it that I can feel so courageous in the face of almost anything, but when it comes to how I’m feeling and thinking, I run away with my tail between my legs?
By Megan Stewart5 years ago in Fiction
What a Glass of Merlot Can Hold
Always in her head, she struggles to focus on the moment more times than not, but tonight Cynthia is making an extra effort to connect her mind with her body. It feels important to stay present. After all, James seems to be a promising candidate for her attention. Over the months spent sharing pleasant conversations in the office, they are finally taking a chance to get to know each other in a different setting.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro5 years ago in Fiction
Twitterpated
A flash of gray whizzed by. This was it—she had arrived. Sid was so nervous that he teetered, almost losing his footing. He took a breath, steadied himself, and looked up. She wasn't his typical type and almost twice his size, but he had agreed to this blind date to get himself out there, dive into the dating pool. It was summer, after all, and he still didn't have a girlfriend—he was desperate to couple up. But she was beautiful with large stunning eyes staring back at him. A sunflower seed dangled from her beak.
By Meredith Bell5 years ago in Fiction
The Hawtest of Dates
We locked eyes while I was dancing. He was walking over from the bar, two drinks in hand - is one for me? I wondered. He skulled one then the other immediately. We never broke eye contact; I was weirdly transfixed, he walked up to me full of confidence. We danced together until his two drinks had obviously kicked in and he couldn't keep up with the beat. I lead him to the front door, but when we exited the club he started to lead me instead while waving down a taxi. He kept waving at yellow cars until he accidentally caught the attention of the taxi driver that was already parked in front of us in the taxi bay. At this point, I knew for sure I could rob him blind when he passed out.
By Eloise Robertson 5 years ago in Fiction
The Sandman
“Have you heard those stories about the Sandman and his children? You know, the folklore about how the Sandman rips out children’s eyes and feeds them to his kids? Or maybe that is just a horror movie, I can’t really remember now . . . anyway, I don’t think they’re true,” I said, swirling my wine in its glass with a small frown dipping my brow.
By Eloise Robertson 5 years ago in Fiction
Yeah, we were.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the table, it wasn’t like I was genuinely entranced by every painfully minuscule detail. I was just trying to find something to distract myself with while I waited in this horribly pretentious restaurant. A deep blue table cloth with swans embroidered on top would have to do.
By Casi Alarcon5 years ago in Fiction
Unanswered
The last judicial execution in Australia was of 41-year-old Ronald Ryan in 1967. He looked like death a day too early. There was still twenty-four hours until Ronald Ryan’s date with the hangman, and already his skin had a grey corpse-like quality. His eyes were ringed so dark they looked bruised. Perhaps they were? Lord knows what sort of treatment he’d been receiving in this horrible place.
By Jacynta Clayton5 years ago in Fiction
