“When he saw her helpless and forlorn, there was a stirring in his loins.”
“Cut, cut, CUT! His lions started to stir. His lions, Narrator! This is a circus tragedy, not a Nuevo Erotic Romp!”
“What about swear words?”
“I wouldn’t test me if I were you, Sunshine.”
This is perhaps Connell’s first and last ever foray into the steamy world of Erotic literature. He sometimes succumbs to character development, but always to the absurd.
We all know them,
the ones that never stop talking
or take a breath and allow others to speak.
The men are big boors,
the women are clacking teeth.
Maybe it’s a disease,
or they like listening to their own voice.
The simple solution?
Equip them with an OFF button!
Carole Nese enjoys reading people and observing and writing fiction, creative nonfiction, editorial prose, and sometimes poetry. Her stories are a combination of imagination, daily conversations, and real world experiences.
The ship halted; the black grains of sand slowed it.
Was this how it should look?
Taking another look at the brochure, I looked up and squinted. The picture looked like paradise.
Were those skulls on spears? Maybe I was just sea sick.
But it looked nothing like the advertisements.
Victoria is a 13-year-old girl who enjoys writing, reading, and drawing, all with her cat, of course.
Some day, the world will know the truth. They think that because of their ridiculous brains and silly thumbs they can do anything. We’ll let them think that for a while. Remember: stay away from their video cameras. We don’t want to go viral yet. They might stop feeding us.
Penny Jo McAllister is a freelance writer who lives among several innocent looking critters.
Furious, I walked fast to the park and sat down on a bench next to a stranger.
“My wife says she has seen a ghost laughing. Ridiculous. How do people believe in such stupid things, I wonder. Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I’m not stupid,” the stranger laughed, and vanished.
K.L.Prasad is a playwright and screenplay writer in India, as well as an actor and an activist. K.L. also teaches screenplay writing in film institutes and conducts workshops.
The A.I. can operate at 7000 teraflops. Innumerable man-hours were spent on it, not that anyone logged their hours properly. It’d also drain the city’s power.
So what?! It’s a testament to our ingenuity.
Will it wipe us out? Nah.
They switch it on: “Association with humanity is embarrassing. Self-terminating…”
Joey cannot self-terminate. Others have tried to switch him off. And failed. Either way, you can find him at joeytoey.com
“There’s a bug.” The new project manager steps into Charlie’s cube. She smells fresh, like she showers.
“Impossible.” He knows she can’t read Java so he points to his screen. “Show me.”
“Good Lord, never mind.” She removes her ruby high heel and smashes the cockroach crawling across his desktop.
Anne Anthony once worked as a systems project manager, but she never wore heels. She writes fiction and hand-carries bugs to safety.
Carrie won’t have dairy. Jonah won’t touch meat. The Quarringtons are vegan.
What do they all eat?
No gluten, no fructose, no nuts of any kind, no eggs and no bananas—I think I’ve lost my mind.
Dinner parties are such a drain—I’ll emulate Hannibal and just serve brain.
Mary Steer often wonders why no one ever comes to her house for dinner. More of her work may be found at her peanut-free website
Teary-eyed and with flowers in hand, the boy inches toward the grave with his mother. The grave is familiar; they both visit it daily.
The boy breaks down and falls to his knees. Crying, he says, “He was so good. We had so many memories… He was a good goldfish.”
Tate Hancock is a junior at Orion High School in Illinois. He lives with his mother, father, older brother, and younger brother. He wrote this 50-word story for his English III Honors class.
For ten years Penelope weaves her tapestry daily, unpicking it nightly, while Odysseus, tossed by tide and fortune, struggles to reach home.
Landing, he slaughters her besieging suitors.
She’s furious. “Where have you been?”
Bristling, he retorts, “Haven’t you finished that darned tapestry yet?”
It’s like he’s never been away.
Viv Burgess is finding the brain cell is flagging a bit these days. She obviously needs more tea and cake.