Ingesting an alcohol pill containing enough units to ensure a buoyant mood at the party, I marvelled at my Halloween costume. Adorned with an inordinately bushy beard, thick-rimmed spectacles, breath-constricting jeans and tweed brogues, my vision of someone dubbed a ‘hipster’ from the olden days was my scariest effort yet.
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who favours cats, craft beer, and cheese over most other things.
Her house was her world. Its walls and windows, standing like shields, kept the intruders away.
She was spending days in solitude, traveling beyond horizons on flying leaves.
At night, heavy curtains would close to separate her from the outside, ending the performance of a life that could have been.
Liana is Romanian, but lives in Belgium. She is currently studying art.
Not to be outdone by Grandma’s cat, who slathered a gob of squirrel viscera upon the sidewalk, Boon whined at the screen door. Usually it was dross—holey sock, long-gone bones—but something’s different today: a tobacco tin with old coins, curled Greybacks.
Good dog, I say, over and over.
Leigh Ward-Smith is a writer, editor, and amateur duck-wrangler with a passion for literature in its many forms. Her work has been published in or is forthcoming for The Ghouls’ Review, 52nd City literary magazine, and the Bikes in Space fiction anthology. When not reading, parenting, or being outdoors, she can most likely be found blogging at Leigh’s Wordsmithery.
I do not know, six decades from now, what memories will persevere in my children and grandchildren.
But I’m taking my shot at short-term immortality, dipping this toddler in the ocean, locking eyes as a loose dog licks salt from her giggles and her father screams at me from behind.
Lee D is hyphenetically challenged and not sure if this qualifies as a 50 word story. Editor: It does!
The story of the week for February 15 to 19 is…
Unicorn Heaven by Brenda Anderson
This story hits a rare threshold of creativity, with a complex emotional backing. Nicely done.
“My brother bought this chainsaw on one of those internet auction sites. He said he got a great deal, lots cheaper that the home improvement stores. He always wanted to own one but wouldn’t pay retail.”
“Too bad instructions weren’t included,” said the coroner as he zipped the body bag.
Michael J. Moran is a retired university professor living in Alabama. Having left behind the writing of scientific articles and text books, he now writes short stories and flash fiction reflecting the people and culture of the anthracite coal region of Northeastern Pennsylvania where he was raised.
She’d always hated her hair. Mousy. Flat. Utterly uncooperative.
But lately, ever since she got the news, well suddenly it wasn’t so bad after all. It was lustrous. It was thick. It was beautiful.
How could she have taken it for granted?
It would grow back. If she was lucky.
Kristen is an aspiring writer currently residing in Orange County, California. She enjoys writing fiction and non fiction-based fiction and reading others’ creative works.
On my first day as a pest control technician, I met Dr. Krankenblatz. He came to the door in a lab coat, brandishing a raygun-like contraption.
He pointed to my sprayer. “It doesn’t detect tachyons, does it?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh,” he sighed. “I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out…”
Rollin T. Gentry lives in Birmingham, Alabama. A software engineer by day, he can be found reading and writing speculative fiction during much of his spare time. Several of his stories have appeared in other publications. Read more from him at rollintgentry.com.
When the scientist stepped into the office, his eyes flickered before his boss. “I’ve found the cure to cancer!”
His boss sighed, assuming a gloomy expression. “Forget about it. Cancer is an elegant way to keep the world population in check.”
“But,” he grimaced, “I have cancer.”
“So do I.”
George S Karagiannis is a cancer biologist, which is why he wrote this thought-provoking story. He is also an aspiring science fiction author Find more of his writing on his website.
They drank coffee together every day of their marriage. It had always been a part of their routine. Like the evening shows. Like the dinner parties. Like the slaps to the face when she got out of line.
She looked across the table to his chair, empty now, and smiled.
Melissa is a writer, teacher, and dog lover in the Middle of Nowhere, Michigan.