“I need more money,” he said and ordered a book on computer programming. He sat in cafés each night, hunting and pecking for opulence. At first I shook my head, but soon became curious.
“Did you make any money from that book?”
“Depends. How much will you pay for it?”
Peter Burns grew up in Appleton, Wisconsin. He currently lives in Daejeon, South Korea and is an associate professor of English at Joongbu University.
Sometime after midnight a flame flared outside my window, momentarily illuminating his face. He had a cigarette clenched between his teeth. His eyes mirrored the flame, creating three distinct points of light, which all vanished at once, leaving only the orange tip of his cigarette dancing like a bumbling firefly.
Over the years Bob Thurber’s work has received a long list of awards and prizes. His most recent book is a collection of brief stories titled “Nothing But Trouble”. Visit BobThurber.net
I fix my gaze on the pew, suffocating. I hear the eulogies:
“A man of impeccable character.”
“A good man.”
The judge addresses the man directly.
“I accept your guilty plea and sentence you to prison.”
After 30 years, I raise my head and breathe. I am safe.
works as a speaker and psychotherapist and lives as a survivor.
She smiled at me, an innocent upturn of her lips. I never saw the noose tightening around my neck.
She called me her little butterfly. I never thought she’d clip my wings.
She said she loved me. It was a love that strangled.
But she didn’t know desperation could kill.
Jenora Vaswani is a cat-lover, aspiring writer, and someone who just really likes cookies. She spends her time cuddling her two little balls of fluff who think (mistakenly!) that they’re in charge.
Michael changed the bandage, concerned that his arm wasn’t healing.
He sat at his desk, glancing nervously at the wall clock. Only two hours to prepare himself for the pitch. He hadn’t wanted to call on the daemon with such little time.
He tore a blood-flecked page from the typewriter.
Jeff is a handyman who also writes. When he has time he posts to his blog
He smiles, writing his phone number on a rumpled piece of paper. “Call me if anything breaks.”
She walks with it in her pocket, his crisp penmanship something like a promise.
It’s in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, under a bright sky, that she calls to say, “I’m broken.”
Kathryn Trattner writes from the middle of the United States supported by three cats, two kids, and one husband. Her fiction can be found in various literary magazines. Find her at www.kathryntrattner.com
They meet on the rooftop, party underway, the trendy and unhip neatly segregated.
I, above the labels, cross the crowd observed, envied. This is my house partied upon. I stand amongst the beautiful people.
We sham an invented happiness. Our surroundings believe the lies.
It’s time to retreat; more cocaine.
Jeffrey Albright is an aspiring writer of compelling fiction. His passion for storytelling was fostered by years of working in and owning a boutique hair salon where, from behind the chair, he has heard many a tall tale and met enough characters to cast his stories for years.
The Story of the Week for May 10 to 15 is…
The Stranger by Gaghe MacWilliams.
This week was packed with great stories, mostly provided by a writing class from Prince Edward Island! It was hard to pick just one, but I picked Gaghe’s incredibly imaginative adventure.
“Don’t do this, Anna.”
“It’s too late.” She gave a little laugh, one that was bordering on hysterical.
“Please. I didn’t mean it!”
“You cheated on me. Again.”
“Anna, what are you doing?” He took a step back, panicked.
“It meant everything.” She could only smile before pulling the trigger.
Anjeline Marquez wrote this story.
Putting pen to paper is an ominous sign.
It means that the demons whom I had so painstakingly put to sleep will arise and come knocking at my sanity. That I’m out in the open to be ground, scathed, churned and burnt.
It means that I haven’t forgotten you, yet.
Swetha B Ram wrote this story.