Her scars run deep. Invisible.
A stab in the heart here, a slap in the face there.
She plans her escape with precision, as far as her meagre funds will allow. Relief.
She forces herself to stop thinking about her past pain, her ex-husband and, with a pang, her ex-dog.
Jean lives in a village near Bath in the UK. She has an ex-husband and an ex-dog.
The story of the week for August 7 to 11 is…
Neigborhood by Marjorie Arnett
Ready to write, with research, outline and tea, she grimaced after a sip. “No sugar!”
Darker, a breeze ruffled papers and grey horses galloped across the sun.
Flocks of argumentative birds settled like a blanket; the scent of rain lured them.
As drops fell, all was gathered, again without yield.
Susan Cornford is a retired public servant, living in Perth, Western Australia. To date, she has (co)won only one competition but has been short-listed or made finalist for numerous others. She has pieces published or forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Antipodean Science Fiction, Ghost Parachute, Speculative 66, Subtle Fiction, Switchblade, The Fable Online, The Gambler and The Vignette Review. She now considers herself an emerging flash writer.
Aladdin rubbed the lamp and a Genie popped out.
“I want wealth, women, and immortality,” said Aladdin.
A caravan appeared, with camels laden with gold and silver, and thirty beautiful women.
The Genie smiled. “Now for the immortality.” He stuffed Aladdin into the lamp and rode off with the caravan.
Harry Demarest likes to write 50-word stories while he procrastinates finishing his novel.
The Story of the Month is chosen from the Story of the Week winners announced from the past month.
The finalists for July were:
Ten by L.S. Engler
The Retreat by Matthew Eichenlaub
Ham for Tobacco by Henry F. Tonn
Life on Earth by Sarah Krenicki
Backtrack by B.C. Nance
The winner of the July 2017 Story of the Month, and the $10 prize, is…
The unfolding-in-reverse delivery works exactly as intended, ramping to an agonizing anticlimax.
I used to collect mermaid scales at the beach with my brother. They were aluminium soda can tabs, but whatever—we knew they were really mythical, wish-granting scales. We used them for snow days until my brother caught pneumonia.
I stacked hundreds on his grave.
Even then, it wasn’t enough.
Like most kids , E.O. just used shooting stars to wish for snow days. During meteor showers, about 90% of the wishes in the region were likely made for snow, with the remaining 10% being divided between money, sports cars, and those hoping that their sadistic bosses would drop dead inexplicably.
I see my life.
I see my laughter, my tears. I see passion, hope.
Sadly next I see doubt, anxiety, so much worry, too little joy in the beauty of simply being alive!
Looking back, through dead eyes, too late I see a glorious gift unappreciated.
I see my life.
Lisa Lysen is having fun exploring her passion for words, hoping an adventure in writing may be somewhere in her future.
Engineers created robots that wrote music based on brainwaves.
We wanted to hear thoughts of wonder, imagining a new wave of ‘sub-conscious’ brain-raves.
Exhilaration turned to panic as a deeply buried sorrow filled our ears. A dying world screamed within our minds, and we had turned the volume up loud.
Alex Massey is a writer and the editor of Story Seed Vault
. They can be found hiding behind decorative foliage at parties or on Twitter
An inch worm
rides on the ear
of a calico cat.
on the roof next door.
A can for Ore-ida potato chips
worn as a helmet on a child’s head
passes by on the sidewalk.
An old Retriever
asking permission to be young again.
Marjorie lives in Maine.
Beneath the majestic Tora Bora Mountains he pulled the trigger, then trailed his quarry into a nearby cave. He leaned over and peered into the man’s dying eyes, and was startled when the Arab’s bloody hand rose slowly and gently touched his cheek.
He decided this was his last kill.
Henry F. Tonn is a soon-to-be-retired psychologist who once wrote an excellent novel about a woman with multiple personality disorder who became a serial killer. It had all the qualities that the reading public would presumably like. He webs at henrytonn.com