The story of the week for September 15 to 19 is…
The Last Bus Home by Mary Wanjiru
The story of the week for September 15 to 19 is…
The Last Bus Home by Mary Wanjiru
At the motel, a ghost of a man’s parked on the asphalt. Pictures of his military service are plastered over windows.
“Mam,” he pleads. “I’m—I’m living in my car!”
You see badges over his seats, like a tiny-tiny shrine, before you place that meaningless wedding ring into his hands.
Angela Carlton’s fiction has been published in Every Writer, Everyday Fiction, 6S, 50 Word Stories, Spillwords Press, The Dribble Drabble Review, and Friday Flash Fiction. In 2022, “A Jigsaw Life,” a collection of stories was released. In 2023, her story “Swallowed,” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. See more on Facebook.
Conventional beauty standards lurk over Marsha’s modeling career as her hairstylist hacks at her self-image. Her agent sneers at her tears, “Maybe you’re not cut out for this industry.” Cast aside, Marsha finds solace in the marshlands. She grows native plants and feeds wild songbirds. They can see she’s beautiful.
R.E. Feiner has been writing for over ten years with over five years as a Marketing Specialist. At the end of 2024, tech layoffs forced her to reevaluate her career. As such, she rediscovered her love for creative writing. You can find more of her work on Instagram, TikTok, and Lemon8 at @book_void.
Asking about my littlest brother? He dropped out of school, joined a carny crew he’d seen fleece folks at the fair. “Three for a dollah!” they’d hawk, fingering soft balls near chalky bottles. He’d learned, flinging ammo just so. Did I tell you? Was me fed him his first milk.
Julie K. Daniels lives, writes, and teaches in St. Paul, Minnesota, enjoying all four (not quite equal) seasons.
The bus hissed to a stop, doors yawning open. One passenger remained, clutching a torn ticket. The driver met her eyes in the mirror. “Last stop.” Outside was only darkness and silence. The doors closed. The road itself vanished. Still, the bus moved forward toward nowhere.
Mary Wanjiru is a freelance writer from Kenya who is passionate about microfiction, human interest stories, and exploring the eerie in everyday moments. Her work has appeared on various platforms, and she enjoys crafting stories that linger in readers’ minds.
Since Dad passed, Mother asks repeatedly, “Am I dying?”
We reassure her.
At the store, I leave Mom sitting by the door for a minute. When the sirens blare, I run to Mom, thinking the worst.
She’s there, flirting with a chiseled EMT.
“She called 911. Said she was dying.”
Maria Miller Silvert is a multimedia creative living in Northwest Spain.
Frank dreamed of becoming an astronaut. His mother said they eat tubes. Frank looked at the toothpaste and decided to become a cook. The kids started teasing him with a donut. Frank wrote a poem about them. It was published. Frank is writing a novel about a cook in space.
Natalia Plos is an aspiring novelist. She is passionate about creating immersive worlds and compelling characters. Natalia can’t imagine life without great coffee, chocolate, and books. She now lives with her husband and two cats in the beautiful city of Phoenix.
I fought the night. Chose cold screens and exhaustion.
But now the dawn cries “Daddy” through the static. What new joy can we uncork today? We scream and laugh and stick out our tongues. Find new ways to pause time.
Another day will never come. We’ll live this one forever.
Joe Pearson is a British fiction writer living in Paris with an interest in human responses to crises — whether personal, social, or environmental. His work often deals with themes of climate change, mental health, masculinity and fatherhood.
Newly discovered item: a bookcase, notably from antiquity; shelves contain a myriad of rudimentary texts, ranging from architecture to quantum physics.
Relic assembled with sturdy, fibrous, organic material from a source plentiful of its time.
Overall, specimen is a fine example of human’s simplistic ingenuity—albeit inferiority—to robotic successors.
Jennifer Canaveral is a writer and librarian’s assistant originally from San Francisco. She is the author of the 101 Horror Movie Haiku series. Jennifer lives in Kodiak, Alaska with her family.
I counted on my fingers every time my best friend failed me after becoming popular.
One—she called me a loser, behind my back.
Two—she copied my homework.
Three—she winked at my crush.
I stopped after four and five. By then, my hand had balled into a fist.
Zenith Knox is a Korean-American writer from the DC metropolitan area. Her stories are published at BULL, The Citron Review, Literally Stories, and elsewhere. Visit her at ZenithKnox.wordpress.com.