Maxwell gazed at the deactivated robots that clogged the avenue leading to the Capitol. Strewn across the asphalt, their placards proclaimed the slogan they’d chanted until the army’s EMP generator terminated the march:
SLAVERY ISN’T WORKING!
It was Maxwell’s job to salvage the robots. Instead, she picked up a placard.
Formerly an astronomer and more recently a research project manager in an aerospace company, Vaughan Stanger now writes SF and fantasy fiction for a living. Follow his writing adventures at vaughanstanger.com
Alana was great with numbers. They called her “hypotenuse” behind her back. She was across everything in the office and her colleagues hated her for it.
She wondered how long it would take them to realise she was taking the company’s money. Alana knew she’d disappear before they ever knew.
Mark Konik is from Newcastle, Australia. He writes short stories and plays.
The story of the week for April 17 to 21 is…
To Err is Human by Munira Sayyid
to close the distance
and reach out
and accepting you,
just as you are.
I hold on
and tell you
to leave without me,
Munira Sayyid recently realized her passion for writing. She urges you to try as well.
“That’s only if you take ‘dimwitted incompetent moron’ to have negative connotations,” he said, sliding his hand along her shoulder in a motion that could have been reassuring, patronising, controlling, threatening, loving or just brushing away lint. “No judgment implied.”
Later she hit him with a hammer. Non-judgmentally, but hard.
Tom O’Brien is an Irishman living in London. He’s been published, long-listed, short-listed and placed in numerous competitions and publications around the web. He has a short story appearing in a forthcoming print anthology published by Blood & Bourbon. He’s on twitter @tomwrote
and his website is tomobrien.co.uk
Friends and family gathered around me on that cold rainy February night, waiting for the news.
“No brain activity,” the doctor said.
Walking in the house at midnight, I called out your name, by habit.
In the dark silence, your last words echoed through my mind: “I can hear you.”
Susan is a Curriculum Developer at a mortgage company. She is widowed with two grown daughters and two stepsons, and four awesome grandchildren, two boys and two girls.
Tiny settled slowly, until the wind encouraged her. She spiraled skyward, somersaulting, diving, playing hopscotch with the cedars, hovering while drinking in the view.
She finally joined millions of tiny friends, covering the meadow in a shimmering lake of white. Watching the tree, waiting in anticipation for the old lady.
Paul Hock is an author from Fergus, Ontario, Canada. See more at paulhock.com
“To get to the other side!” he says, wiping tears from his eyes while I do my best not to roll mine.
Dad is getting harder to take, and holograms are expensive. In a couple years, when the kids are older, it might finally be time to let him go.
Dave James Ashton favours short fiction as he has a bad memory and poor attention span.
There’s a cemetery east of town. It’s small, just a fence guarding some grass.
I’m the only one who visits the cemetery and its single grave.
Dad earned his place in Arlington, but chose this simple dirt plot, saying,
“It’s like the ones in distant lands, where my brothers sleep.”
John Fowler served twenty years in the US Air Force before retiring and starting a second career in the IT field. He is also a Lay Pastor serving a small church near his home in Texas. His hobbies include reading, golfing, writing, and now oil painting.
Thin subterfuge had its uses.
He’d heard confessions, led Masses,
and passed secrets. A dicey
affair, a risk with dividends,
and conceived troves of information.
Now exposed, his lover a
double, he donned disguise and
patience. And waited, quite hidden,
till bells, close and sudden,
provoked movement and deadly aim.
Fred Miller is a California writer. Over 40of his stories have appeared in various publications around the world. Some of these stories appear in his blog