I just wanted to make it big, be useful, go clubbing, to the beach, take photos of all of those things, maybe call 9-1-1 sometime.
I’m an iPhone! A must-have gadget! I deserve an owner who uses me properly.
Sure, I’m user-friendly, but…
With grandma, I’m nothing but a paperweight.
Lis Boquete is a student of English as a foreign language, born and raised in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She is a book lover and is currently studying to become a sworn translator.
The highway is not safe. There are things that will consume you in the blink of an eye. Creatures born out of the radioactive scorched earth. They are hungry for human flesh, prowling the area constantly.
He sees them on the road from his vantage point up on the hill.
Amanda Thompson is a South African writer who has written several short stories and novellas in different genres. She loves to read, write, and build miniatures.
The young witch knew what the child would be.
She tried to hide her concern when the older witches gave her slanted looks.
One day, deep in the woods, she said, “A boy? What do I do with a boy?”
“You begin by naming him Merlin,” said the oldest tree.
Bob Thurber is the author of “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel” and two collections of stories. A celebrated master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in 60 anthologies, received dozens of awards, and been used in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts where, though legally blind, he continues to write every day. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
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.
The story of the week for May 20 to 24 is…
Forgotten by Trisha Ridinger McKee
Exquisite, translucent, shimmering. Vials of ancient mystery plucked from sand-blasted ruin by an intrepid adventurer.
Now lost, due to his new love, unknown until one evening when he placed his first bet. Cards became his new mistress, replacing exotic beauty hard won weeks before. Opalescent love, sacrificed for earthly addiction.
Simon Clarke was born in and raised and currently resides in East Anglia, United Kingdom. He has been writing fiction for at least five years and regularly submits to UK and international publications as well as reading short pieces and poetry at open mic events. He is currently working on his first novel and continues to write short stories and poetry.
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.
I, a lone woman in New Delhi, who treads the road at night with just inner faith as safeguard, am without doubt on a slut walk.
I walk past cul-de-sacs of bawdy lyrics, grasping looks, and treacherous thoughts to find my high road, violating all rules of behaviour and mobility.
Chitra Gopalakrishnan is a New Delhi-based journalist by training, a social development communications consultant by profession and a creative writer by choice. Her focus is on issues of gender, environment and health. She dabbles in poetry on the sly and literary creations openly on the website using social media.
Scars cover my body. Small and jagged; thick and bumpy. Scattered across my skin, a constellation of pain.
They bind me both to the past and to the person I have become.
My scars are a constant reminder of the day I embraced my fate, adopting my first five cats.
Isley is an avid reader and aspiring writer and just keeps swimming.