A victorious army marched upon the capital.
As crowds came out to exalt the old general, the green-eyed and white-knuckled king clutched his crown. In the general’s honor, he arranged for a feast spiked with aconite.
However, the general had already made his escape, and elsewhere, a farmer came home.
Michael De la Peña’s parents blame his near-sightedness on the fact that he has always had his nose buried in a book since the age of nine. However, he still has a clear view of all the myriad of designs that bounce around inside his head, and his daydreams, permutations of each mental blueprint. He is often elbow-deep in his latest project with his brow furrowed.
Maisy watches with awe as rockets launch in the distance. They rise majestically into the atmosphere, leaving behind trails like shooting stars. The girl makes but one wish: for these mysterious, departing spaceships to revisit our planet soon.
Hours later, continents away, the nuclear missiles begin their return to Earth.
Jeremy C. North is a Melbournian writer of horror, sci-fi, and tragedy. You can catch him in the act at guyawks.tumblr.com.
The Mad Colorist turned the sun green.
Gently, God said, “Change it back.”
“Never. I’m talented, see?”
“Fine. Your choice. You need a bigger canvas. My choice.”
The Mad Colorist fled from an exploding nebula, while God changed the sun back Himself.
“Talented? Ha. Flash in the pan.”
Brenda Anderson wrote this story.
Marcie wonders if inanimate things have secrets. She watches her dolls in the glow of the nightlight. Merely a word or the curved closing of a spread plastic hand will be horrifying, for she knows this: no one can control anything that can form a fist or speak its name.
April Selley teaches Writing of Fiction and American Literature at Union College in Schenectady, New York. She has published seven works of fiction and over forty poems in literary magazines. Her chapbook In and Out of Eden won the 2001 Permafrost Chapbook Award.
This shirt, this wonderful, beautiful shirt, has magic powers; its wearer, they say, will always gain his heart’s desires.
They also say that it’s invisible to those with evil in their hearts, but that doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t need to see it to know that it’s working.
Two rectangular prongs and one round prong. Perfection.
Joe had worked at Hob’s Hardware long enough to know that, at least. These three prongs were the holy triumvirate, the electron bearers, the voltage senders, the ohm inducers.
In these troubled days, that was all he was truly certain of anymore.
My grandfather was the Master of Time.
On rare occasions, when his power was at its peak, he would ask if I wanted to stay up later. Then, with a flick of his hand, he would turn the clock back an hour, and the entire world would follow his example.
Maximillian White has been telling stories since he could speak, and writing – often legibly – for almost as long. Check out more of his work at elitefool.com and ridiculousity.net.
Swirls. They looked like galaxies. Far away galaxies, of which he was the creator, forming them with his almighty touch. With the same amount of ease, they dissolved, their form vanishing into the next creation. What power, to control worlds with such grace.
He realized his coffee was now cold.
BCTurk is an aspiring short film director/producer and video editor. You can find his work at http://www.youtube.com/BCTurk.