He sighed at the fiery shells of what used to be houses, shops, offices… Thick black smoke billowed. Charred bodies were scattered along the streets. It’s just like my city, he thought as scant sunbeams pierced the ashen haze.
But it was theirs.
He huffed, reloaded: the payback must continue.
Joey tries to write a little. You can find him and abuse him at joeytoey.com
You presume the palm trees surrounding the cabana block my view of your fingers as they trail across his thigh. Preoccupied, you fail to see the ocean inhale water from the beach.
I consider calling your attention to the towering wave approaching, but the palm trees stand petulant between us.
Tom Barlow is the author of Welcome to the Goat Rodeo and I’ll Meet You Yesterday.
While driving ‘cross country my brother asked me if I’d ever thought about killing someone.
That same day, in the night, that store owner stayed late. He killed my brother. Had a single-action under the counter. Then I killed him.
Brother, I didn’t even have to think about it.
Anthony Saint wrote this story.
A day after the funeral the murderer sat smirking, counting his profits from the killing after finding refuge. The perfect crime, he thought. No one will ever come after me.
Then the doorbell rang. Moments later his accomplice ran in, his face pale.
“Is he armed?”
“Y-yes… H-he’s a… Zombie!”
Jason Huynh is a bored student who worries about accidental plagiarism.
She tossed sleeplessly all night, shooting his skull off. In her head, he was dead thirty times.
The next morning she ran down the road to where their mansion stood. She waited until he showed up at the window.
She huffed back home and pulled out the knife.
Megha Nayar is a 26-year old Communications professional from India, who has forever loved and lived for the written word. She is an independent writer/editor and regularly contributes to contests, anthologies, and literary magazines. She is also currently writing her first collection of short stories.
Phil had watched his brother drown as a young boy and now he’s finally facing his fears. He watches his reflection in the lake.
He squints, confused, and leans closer.
The reflection is his brother.
“Murderer, I’ve been waiting for you.” The child reaches and drags Phil down too deep.
Alex loves to write flash fiction, short stories, and novels in the horror, crime, suspense, and fantasy genres. Visit ALK’s full portfolio at alexlkerr.com
“I should’ve did this the first time I caught you,” Angie said.
She cut up Ben’s underwear. The ones too ugly to hide. The ones he loved. She threw the tattered pieces to her Rottweiler. He needed another chew toy.
“That’ll teach you to eat the last piece of chocolate.”
Tamra Artelia Martin received her MFA in creative writing from the University of Central Florida. An overachiever at heart and a glutton for academic punishment, or academic joy depending on the day, she’s currently earning her second MFA in stage and screen writing at Lesley University. Check out her blog on writing at http://writerschai.blogspot.com/
It was a moonlit night. They stood on the pier end, watching the storm brewing at sea.
He loved her so, yet he knew he pushed her to her limit. She had always stayed.
He knew she had strength. There on the pier, with one swift push… she proved it.
Stephanie Hougen is an avid reader and loves the challenge of the 50-word story!
What a mess.
Wish I’d known it was staged from the start. These fools must’ve considered me a pawn, thought I’d turn and run when the bullets started flying. I was their plausible deniability…
But life doesn’t follow anyone’s script.
I’d better dump these fools’ corpses before someone happens by.
This story was based on the prompt “it was staged” at TypeTrigger.
I learned to knit when I was two. Now I can follow complicated patterns and all my friends receive knitted creations for their birthdays.
My husband is annoyed by the click-clack of my needles, and I suspect he is plotting his revenge. Perhaps he’ll knit me up in my shroud.
Cath Barton lives in Wales. She has many pastimes, including writing, but is not a great knitter.