1958: Calling the “doctor” was impossible, since he did not work in a clinic. His instructions for overnight monitoring post-procedure had been vague but emphatic: WATCH FOR A HAEMORRHAGE. Tragically, she didn’t realize that even a tiny trickle of blood, steady, minute after lonely minute, for hours, was precisely that.
Amanda Le Rougetel writes flash-length creative nonfiction and micro-length fiction. Find her published work on Chill Subs.
Beautiful.
A gaudy word. Nonlethal.
Unnecessary for us machines of war.
Notice: new patch, titled “Last Update”.
Size: 21TB
Download time: 40 seconds
My armor is now unbearably suffocating. I tear it off.
My face, the sky, they reflect back at me from my doffed plates.
I never realized.
Beautiful.
Jean Llenos is an aspiring author and MD candidate based in Ohio. He is a lover of all things fantastical and strange.
Every day he ascended the creaking stairs, carefully removed the cloth from the clouded crystal prism, and asked the same question—only to receive the same answer. Until the day came that the stairs stayed silent and the cloth, left undisturbed, was obscured by soft-falling dust, and dustier, and dustier.
Stephanie Lane Gage is an artist and writer in Los Angeles, CA. Her short story “Anomalous Instances of Black Ball Lightning in Daggett, Michigan” was recently published in Interzone (issue #295). You can find more of her visual and written work at @slg.pdf.
Sunrise tints the lake, delicate hues drifting into a perfect rose-gold morning. Skimming dragonflies dance while leaping trout emboss the drowsy water with tiny crystal rainbows. Everyone thinks I’m chasing dinner, but I’ve got beer in my cooler, a book and empty hook.
All I’m catching is peace and quiet.
Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.
It began with her putting the kettle in the fridge and calling everybody “darling.” When she bought a white sports convertible and went shopping in her underwear, her daughters put her away. In her garage, they found her collection: No Stopping. No U-turn. Steep Descent. All the signs were there.
Doug Jacquier writes from the Fleurieu Peninsula in South Australia. His work has been published in Australia, the US, the UK, Canada, New Zealand and India. He blogs at Six Crooked Highways.
The story of the week for August 14 to 18 is…
Bluebottle by Wayne Garry Fife
The traffic, the voices, all too much. I cover my ears and imagine myself somewhere else. There you were, holding the moon and stars in your hands, your eyes glazed wet. I wish you’d cradled me this way, offered me hope that we could know each other. I guess not.
Indigo is a freelance writer, artist, activist, and curator. She founded Creative Being, a platform where creativity amplifies positive change.
When my car breaks down, my mother reminds me that bad things come in threes. “Be extra careful,” she says. She means, Fate’s watching you.
“How will being careful help?” I ask. I mean, If we can’t change our fate.
I buy a new canister of mace, just in case.
Larina Warnock works at a large school district in Southern Oregon helping young people prepare for work or college. She enjoys writing for 50-Word Stories while tossing a squeaky for her fetch-obsessed Boston terrier.
A breath.
A wave rolls in, pulls out, digs furrows beneath my heels that drag towards the sea. That’s the direction I go. Always, always, to the sea.
“Marie!” Mom calls. “You know better than to listen to the waves. Come on.”
My coat, shiny gray, drapes in her hand.
Alexa Donley is a speculative fiction writer from Federal Way, Washington. When not writing, she enjoys traveling and walking in storms.
The jilted woman carved open a cavity in her chest and reached inside, her fingers spidering along over the web of strings. Bemused, she plucked them.
Adagio.
Lamentoso.
The music filled the air, played at a pitch no one could hear, but resonating at the frequency of heartstrings everywhere—spreading misery.
Tim Boiteau is a Writers of the Future winner currently based in Michigan. Find him at @timboiteau.