Ken believed our scoutmaster when he said adding dry leaves would give the stew a nice “hickory” flavor.
We couldn’t stop Ken in time to keep all of the leaves out, but when we won first prize for “Best Camporee Meal,” no one mentioned the secret ingredient to the judges.
Ran Walker remains perpetually amazed by what you can do with fifty words.
On Monday, the Cassie hivemind forecasts a global superflu, ninety percent lethal.
On Tuesday, Aspasia predicts five percent.
The differing projections hinge, it appears, on the mathematical solution to Rostwick’s Paradox, on which the AIs disagree, and which no human can understand.
Quite in the dark, we’re rooting for Aspasia.
Graham Robert Scott teaches writing at a university in north Texas. His stories have appeared in Barrelhouse Online, Nature, and 50-Word Stories. See more at hemicyon.wordpress.com.
Fiona had secrets. Unlike some, she kept them hidden. She didn’t whisper about them in private. In fact, she didn’t speak of them at all.
She simply went through life, protecting the guilty in order to spare the innocent.
Life was easier that way. Everyone was happy.
Well, almost everyone.
Susan Gale Wickes lives in Indiana. She takes comfort in reading and writing 50-Word Stories.
When I said crafts were therapeutic, I meant something like crochet or pottery. He settled on taxidermy.
True, he’s sleeping better now. He’s less stressed. But I can’t get comfortable with six glassy eyes staring at me.
And sometimes I think the kids were more rewarding when they were alive.
Hannah Whiteoak has no children and a large collection of stuffed animals.
Father flattens old photos, my boyhood hair white as snow.
He looks at my dark head, asks again if I color it. All my friends have been gray for years.
I consider the truth: I’m expelling inner darkness that beckons demons. It exits through my hair.
“No, Dad. It’s natural.”
Jeff Stone has published several short stories and many poems. He has three novels in various stages of completion and loves learning too much for his own good. Albert Camus said fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth. Dark Hair is a short piece of fiction that resides somewhere in between.
The story of the week for January 28 to February 1 is…
Toms by Roy Gomez
Mr. Burnett picks up his newspaper from his doorstep, scans the picket-fenced street, then retreats inside.
He’s a respectable, decent man, I remind myself.
His wife, Helena, hasn’t been seen for several months. Visiting her sister in Wyoming, apparently.
This is suburbia. We go about our day, no questions asked.
Mark Towers writes children’s books, short stories and poetry.
“The rules,” the nanny said. “No running. No shouting. No sweets. Clean your room. Stay neat and tidy.”
Tommy stopped listening because it all meant one thing: no fun. He nodded, while planning the biggest, loudest sugar-fueled bedroom mud fight of all time.
It was time she learned his rules.
GB breaks at least half of Nanny’s rules every day.
At the edge of the woodlands we came upon a group in a field.
We took turns spying with the binoculars. No one said anything.
When it was my turn I saw the casket was unusually small.
There were three women and any of them could have been the mother.
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.
My students think writing these stories is impossible. I will make it my mission to show them otherwise. I will write one, right here, right now. Off the top of my head.
Some of them have started, I think. Some of them just waste time. Some of them watch, waiting.
Caitlin Griffin wrote this story.