Books pile up around the bed like sandbags. He’d just finished another one about gulags. There were people who’d lost fingers and toes while digging for nothing, with nothing for miles in any direction.
Worse off? No doubt. Still, taking no chances, he pulled the sheets up and cocooned himself.
Patrick Mc Loughlin is an English Language Teacher in Ireland and Dabbles in writing. He also dabbles in painting and music and someday hopes to do more than dabble. He lives in the west of Ireland, where it’s hard to concentrate.
They called me to the principal’s office. Thought I won the essay contest.
I felt good. They seemed worried.
“Was everything you wrote about your uncle true?”
Lying would save us. So I did.
“No, it wasn’t true. Just fiction.”
I hadn’t won. I stopped believing in right or wrong.
K. Joffré is a married gay latino living in New York. He is a Slate contributor and has had fiction published in ContemporaryQueer.com
. Slide into his DMs at @meanhood
Mrs. Wells allows the Catcher into her home, reminding herself there are too many plates on the table. The fugitives: three colored men of dark complexion. Two colored women, one copper, one chestnut. Her gaze shifts to the six plates cradling crumbs, disregarding the peeping eyes from underneath the floorboards.
When K.B. Carle is not exploring the realms of speculative, jazz, and historical fiction, she avidly pursues misspelled words, botched plot lines, and rudimentary characters. Her work can be found in Pennyshorts and Sick Lit. Magazine.
Staring at the beige wall, tears streaming down my face, the salty taste annoys me as it drips into my mouth.
“One moment!” I call out while wiping my eyes. Checking my red eyes aren’t noticeable, I turn the lock, plaster on a smile, and open the door.
Sheena is a Grade 8 student attending Vernon Christian School who enjoys reading, playing volleyball, and listening to music.
All I can see is the faint glow of a pulsating green light. Voices are getting louder.
The cave is damp and smells of sulphur. The purple rock glistens from the flashes of lightning and the rolling thunder echoes deep into an underground chasm.
It’s just a matter of time.
Gordon Miller is a writer living in Oakville ON. He enjoys getting ideas by writing 50 word stories. Getting them published is a bonus.
The smell of Zinfandel lingers on his lips. The television buzzes like a flowerbed of bees; its images flicker in his dark bedroom. We dance, since childhood waiting for this one perfect song to play.
He asks about my tattoo. I remember my husband.
We kiss before I can confess.
Pegah Mehdizadeh is a writer in Los Angeles and is currently working on her novel, Beneath the Shade of the Pomegranate Tree