When you called, I raced round to your flat like you knew I would.
Afterwards, we sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and sharing a cigarette.
It’s so good to be back together I told you, but you shook your head; Mike must never find out about this you insisted.
David has moved on and now writes 50-word stories. He has most recently had work published in The Foliate Oak, Helios Quarterly, Gnu Magazine, The Machinery, Three Drops From the Cauldron, Summer Fling – Tales of Seduction, Short Tale 100, Blink-Ink, and 50-Word Stories.
When I was younger, my dad taught me how to play chess. If I made a bad move, my dad would let me take it back. He also taught me that a man never cheats.
But I cheated. And that broke her heart.
Nobody’s letting me take that move back.
D.B. Robertson is a Psychology major from Indiana who has rediscovered a love for creative fiction after taking courses in creative writing. When not busy with writing or theatre, D.B. works as a writing tutor at university.
She was living in darkness; he introduced her to sunshine. But in the light she could see the darker side he was trying to hide.
She didn’t know whether the future would be different or a replica of the past; she was trapped amidst the present, which was fading fast.
Preeti Singh is an Indian French Interpreter and Media Professional who is engaged in writing scripts. In her free time she loves to play sundry characters for television series.
It is difficult.
Sitting next to one man, but looking across the room at the one who lives in your heart.
Oh, that is kind of difficult.
Some mistakes can’t be undone, you know.
So it seems. Why tell me this now?
Because I’m about to leave you.
Sakinah hails from Malaysia but has lived in a bunch of other countries including the U.S. After 10 years in the oil and gas industry, she’s venturing out to explore natural healing, writing, and life beyond the corporate jungle. She can be reached at facebook.com/sakinah.alhabshi
Kevin clung desperately to the lip of the mile-high cliff, wondering which of today’s six poor choices had been most to blame for his predicament.
His sweat-slick palms gave way, and too late he noticed the ledge he could have dropped safely onto.
So, the seventh mistake, then.