She didn’t greet him at home, and when he touched her shoulder, she stared at him with eyes full of tears.
“Sorry I’m so late. The traffic sucked, and my phone died. Is that why…?” he nervously asked.
“Five people unfriended me on Facebook this week!” Then she broke down.
Katya Duft is a translator, interpreter, and language teacher, and enjoys writing short stories, poetry, and her blog Tales from the Bus.
Russell walked into his English class and took a seat towards the middle. He wondered what everyone in class thought about his story. It received two likes on Facebook. Hillary walked passed him, stopped and said that his story stunk.
It made Russell smile. They hated Salinger at first, too.
Mark Konik is a writer from Newcastle, Australia. He writes short stories and plays.
“How you get here?”
“Businessman—sold weapons and made a pile. Some collateral damage, but that’s life. Wife drowned me. You?”
“Dictator. Started war, made much money, killed millions until execution. This Hell not so bad.”
Their black carapaces reflect distant mushroom clouds as Earth’s latest inheritors scuttle for shelter.
Viv Burgess thinks her muse needs a pep talk and possibly a good holiday.
Allison didn’t recognize her at first. “…Mom?”
Her mother, impossibly young, stood at the door, a toddler on her shoulder.
“Oh, good,” said her mother. “You’ve turned out okay.” She handed Allison the toddler. “This is you, just barely two. I learned to time travel. I’ll pick her up tomorrow.”
Iain Young used to enjoy time travel, until that one unexpected layover in 1985. Losing his passport didn’t help.
I wanted to pet that bunny, so I followed him to his hole. Determined, I muttered a spell and shrank to the size of a grasshopper. His nose twitched side to side when I found him.
We stared into each other’s eyes. Then I learned that rabbits will eat bugs.
Eddie D. Moore travels extensively for work, and he spends much of that time listening to audio books. The rest of the time is spent dreaming of stories to write and he spends the weekends writing them. His stories have been published by Jouth Webzine, Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Theme of Absence, Devolution Z, and Fantasia Divinity Magazine. Find more on his blog.
Being a toll troll was taxing, in all senses of the word. Many refused to pay the copper penny he demanded for essential bridge maintenance. Eventually he decided to start threatening people with a club.
Now, three billy goats were approaching.
This time he was determined to get his due.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction and the occasional poem.
Dante Bernthall knew he was dying, and went on a farewell tour to say goodbye to his beloved fans. He sang songs they loved; they cried together, gave thanks, and exchanged goodbyes on stage.
And then he just didn’t die. Actually, he got better.
His fans were kind of disappointed.
Alex Colvin is a Canadian humourist who works in Real Estate. Sorry. Find out more at alexandercolvin.wordpress.com.
Three million years entering R.E.M. A dreamy rendezvous with a handsome-beaked mollusk. Wasted.
She half-awoke fully enraged. Fleshy apes. Again. Transmitting waves embedded with trains, rockets, and cream pies. Again.
She hit the snooze, propelling an asteroid toward Earth.
She hoped, vainly, to rejoin the mollusk before waking for work.
boomer trujillo knows it’s not Mondays; it’s really any day without the automated, communist utopia from Star Trek. Check out more of his stuff at boomert.info.
“Do you believe in magic?” she asked. “Charms… enchantments… love potions?”
He laughed. “Of course not. Do you?”
“Oh, no. But your grandma does. She told me.”
“Grandma believes in fairies, too. Don’t take her seriously.”
“You’re right.” She smiled. “Here, drink your tea.”
He drank.
She watched for fairies.
B.C. Nance is a native of Nashville, Tennessee where he works as a historical archaeologist. In his spare time he writes fiction and poetry and has published several of his short stories and poems.
Twinkly blue eyes, shiny brown hair and a Hollywood smile… Swoon.
Lucky me!
Flowers, hearts, teddies and chocolates strewn all around.
“Be my Valentine” proudly displayed.
How are you today, he asks?
Swipe… Beep!
Our eyes meet as he announces for all to hear: “Price check on lasagna for one.”
Lynn Cliff wrote this story.