The story of the week for February 15 to 19 is…
Unicorn Heaven by Brenda Anderson
This story hits a rare threshold of creativity, with a complex emotional backing. Nicely done.
The story of the week for February 15 to 19 is…
Unicorn Heaven by Brenda Anderson
This story hits a rare threshold of creativity, with a complex emotional backing. Nicely done.
“My brother bought this chainsaw on one of those internet auction sites. He said he got a great deal, lots cheaper that the home improvement stores. He always wanted to own one but wouldn’t pay retail.”
“Too bad instructions weren’t included,” said the coroner as he zipped the body bag.
Michael J. Moran is a retired university professor living in Alabama. Having left behind the writing of scientific articles and text books, he now writes short stories and flash fiction reflecting the people and culture of the anthracite coal region of Northeastern Pennsylvania where he was raised.
She’d always hated her hair. Mousy. Flat. Utterly uncooperative.
But lately, ever since she got the news, well suddenly it wasn’t so bad after all. It was lustrous. It was thick. It was beautiful.
How could she have taken it for granted?
It would grow back. If she was lucky.
Kristen is an aspiring writer currently residing in Orange County, California. She enjoys writing fiction and non fiction-based fiction and reading others’ creative works.
On my first day as a pest control technician, I met Dr. Krankenblatz. He came to the door in a lab coat, brandishing a raygun-like contraption.
He pointed to my sprayer. “It doesn’t detect tachyons, does it?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh,” he sighed. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out…”
Rollin T. Gentry lives in Birmingham, Alabama. A software engineer by day, he can be found reading and writing speculative fiction during much of his spare time. Several of his stories have appeared in other publications. Read more from him at rollintgentry.com.
When the scientist stepped into the office, his eyes flickered before his boss. “I’ve found the cure to cancer!”
His boss sighed, assuming a gloomy expression. “Forget about it. Cancer is an elegant way to keep the world population in check.”
“But,” he grimaced, “I have cancer.”
“So do I.”
George S Karagiannis is a cancer biologist, which is why he wrote this thought-provoking story. He is also an aspiring science fiction author Find more of his writing on his website.
They drank coffee together every day of their marriage. It had always been a part of their routine. Like the evening shows. Like the dinner parties. Like the slaps to the face when she got out of line.
She looked across the table to his chair, empty now, and smiled.
Melissa is a writer, teacher, and dog lover in the Middle of Nowhere, Michigan.
Doctor Lorne Calder returned home to meet with Bert Ryan, a carpenter he’d hired to complete renovations at his home. Upon entry, he noticed a flaw in the foyer.
“You’re a master carpenter? Just look at that!” Calder complained.
“It’s easier for you,” replied Ryan. “You bury all your mistakes.”
Paul Finnigan is an Ottawa-based writer who has a collection of short fiction that has appeared in both Canada and the United States. Some previous publishers of his work include Boston Literary Magazine, Feathertale, Polar Expression Publishing, and Every Writer the Magazine.
He watched the ladybird crawl up the blade of grass. He pitied the beetle, its perspective confined to the soil; its miserable existence regulated by the basic needs to eat, defecate, and reproduce; its life dependent on the man’s whim.
He did not envy the ladybird… until it flew away.
Francisco Tutella’s fiction and poetry reflect his experiences growing up in northeastern Pennsylvania and his time spent studying and traveling in Italy. He has written for Wilkes magazine, and his poetry was included in the Luzerne County Transportation Authority’s 2014 Poetry In Transit program. He holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Wilkes University and teaches composition and literature in northeastern Pennsylvania.
My invisible unicorn dies, so I dig a big hole in the garden and sing a happy song. My parents come outside and frown.
“If he’s in unicorn heaven,” they say, “why dig the hole?”
I cry, and they hug me. I love all this.
My unicorn dies quite often.
Brenda Anderson’s fiction has appeared in various places, from Andromeda Spaceways to SpeckLit. She lives in Adelaide, South Australia and tweets irregularly.
The Facebook status read: “We have a ruptured membrane!”
I panicked.
The other women laughed at me. Google helped let me in on the joke.
Why he couldn’t just write “Her water broke” seemed a better question than why, at twenty-seven and a female, I know so little about pregnancy.
Angela Morris earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Central Oklahoma. Her works have previously been published in This Land Press, Chaffin Journal, Atticus Review and other literary journals.