A writer daydreams of outlandish worlds, in which man can fly: in which space is no longer off-limits.
Then, having signed another imaginative story, he slowly gets to his feet, snuffs out his candle, and lays down his quill, while the sound of a horse-drawn carriage fades into the distance.
Maico Morellini was born in 1977. In 2010 he won the Urania Award with the sci-fi novel “Il re nero”, published in 2011 by Mondadori. In 2014, for Delos Digital, he penned the sci-fi series “I Necronauti”. In May 2016 he published his second sci-fi novel, “La terza memoria”, out from Mondadori. In December 2016, his sci-fi anthology “Voci della Polis” was published by Vincent Book Editore. His novel Il diario dell’estinzione (Watson Edizioni, November 2018) won this year’s prestigious Premio Italia for best Fantasy novel. His Sci-Fi, Horror, and Weird short stories have featured in numerous anthologies.
This story was translated from Italian by Sarah Jane Webb.
The scruffy young panhandler sat on the busy sidewalk suckling a fractious infant. When I dropped a coin in her pot, the baby reached for my fingers. Distracted by the tiny hand and abandoned breast, I lingered for a moment too long.
“Alan?” she said as I tried to leave.
Alan Kemister is a retired scientist experimenting with more fictitious writing. See the gory details at alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com.
She felt as though she was being watched.
Her daughter trapped the bee under a glass. Look Mum, it’s one of them. A drone.
She looked closer, and saw a tiny lens where its face should be, glinting in front of beating iridescent wings.
The world wasn’t like she remembered.
Jen Davies is from Glasgow, Scotland. She designs movie posters for a living and loves stories, pictures, and people. You can see her work at jendavies.co.uk and find her on Twitter at @jendavies.
The pebble was perfect—smooth, oval, and just the right weight.
Sally picked it up from where it lay nestled snugly and warm among the other stones on the beach. She skimmed it and counted: “Seven, eight, nine… Not bad.”
The pebble sank into the ocean and started over again.
Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland who dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.
I logged out and fled my cubicle
so find yourself another IT guy, boss
’cause I’m rebooting my system
Time for me to start a new session
open a new window
and reset my password in a warmer climate
as I back up the files and folders of my life
Roberta Beach Jacobson is a humorist from Iowa.
I step in something cold, slimy on the kitchen tile.
Gelatin-encased golden suns. Crushed shells.
Gwen is slumped in the corner, rage melted.
I grease up a pan, ignite the burner, scoop up the ruined eggs with a spatula, and toss them into the spitting oil.
Then help her stand.
Tim Boiteau writes and lives near Detroit with his wife and son.
Our peaceful mission
which commenced in Roswell in 1947
Agents infiltrated the planet on periodic visits
successfully morphing into intelligent life forms to deliver our survival doctrine.
Warnings of the dangers of pollution, climate change, and chemical toxicity
Earthlings will destroy their own planet
John B. Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.
Hundreds of tiny bulrush baskets, aglow with tallow and bearing various gifts for Yemoja, the river goddess, bob towards the saturn sun halo of red and black velvety rings.
But later that night, all night, the darkness weeps for the three families echoing those tiny, thin cries beyond the reeds.
Folake lives and works in Nigeria and hopes to earn the title of “fiction writer” one day.
Marian fumed at Todd for knocking over her juice. A storm marched in above them at school. Marian remembered a joke, and the cloud disappeared.
“Mommy! I can control the weather with my mind,” Marian said.
After extensive psychiatric evaluation, Marian was given medication.
The weather has never been nicer.
Anthony is a writer who loves his family. He works with numbers by day and words by night (or early morning). He is obsessed with his bloodhound, wife, and daughter, and has a love affair with Indian food.
The house was quiet, dimly lit with the holiday lights. Jean sighed, shaking her head. “The kids are busy this time of year, but they’ll be here tomorrow. They need me for those generation pictures. So don’t worry yourself, Tom. I won’t be alone.”
She touched the urn. “Miss you.”
Trisha Ridinger McKee resides in a Mayberry-like town in Pennsylvania, with her weary husband and hippie daughter. She may or may not be inspired by living next to a cemetery. And she may or may not have traumatized her daughter with a few ridiculously intense bedtime stories through the years.