Alana was great with numbers. They called her “hypotenuse” behind her back. She was across everything in the office and her colleagues hated her for it.
She wondered how long it would take them to realise she was taking the company’s money. Alana knew she’d disappear before they ever knew.
Mark Konik is from Newcastle, Australia. He writes short stories and plays.
As the sun sets, a teenage boy gathers coal from the side of a railway track. He’d climbed onto one of the trucks of a slow-moving freight train and opened its side door, spilling its precious payload.
He might get caught, but he doesn’t care; he will be warm tonight.
Coal theft is not uncommon among the poor areas of Poland’s Upper Silesia region, where Daniel teaches English as a foreign language.
His aunt didn’t see him watching her put in the wall safe’s code.
She didn’t see him hiding in the cellar the morning she left for her three week cruise.
He couldn’t see her pull out and bolt the sliding metal door she had recently installed at the cellar entrance.
Diane de Anda has published fiction, poetry, and essays in Rosebud, Straylight, Storyteller, Pacific Review, Bilingual Review, Frogpond, Modern Haiku, Bottle Rockets, Presence, and others; satire in Humor Times; eight children’s books; and a collection of 40 flash fiction stories.
Robert lived for the thrill of breaking into a house—the cool strength of the pry bar, the snap of a lock, the tinkle of busted glass, the adrenaline high, the solitary trespass through another’s intimate space, the absolute power of looking and touching and taking and—BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
Gary Wadley lives in Louisville with his lovely wife and beautiful children. He does creative stuff; he can’t help it.
Grinning, Earl invaded Gomper Hall, sporting a fuchsia waistcoat with orange-striped breeches, a feathered fez. His belt had bells!
Earl slapped distinguished backs, strutted past mouths agape, open as though for fishhooks. Gentlemen fanned woozy ladies.
Earl was removed.
(Nobody expected that heist. We’re still taking inventory of the loot!)
C.B. Auder might someday dream of a life jam-packed with flexi-twill cuffs and apricot capes.
“How did you sprain your ankle, young man?”
“I was running from the shotgun.”
“Oh, a sports injury; you were playing football, right?”
“In that case you won’t be covered by your school insurance. How do you plan to pay for your medical treatment?”
“Will you accept watermelons?”
John H. Dromey has had short fiction published in Gumshoe Review, Liquid Imagination, MicroHorror and elsewhere.
“This looks too easy,” he thought as he descended to the display on a rope.
It was easy. The glass lid had no trigger. There were no laser trip wires, not even a lock.
He snatched the gem, ascended to the window, and escaped.
Too bad it was a fake.
Sean Quigley also goes by “Posh Platypus.” Follow him on Twitter: @PoshPlatypus.
He tried desperately to keep the merchandise hidden under his shirt, but the guard had already noticed his fumbling.
“Maybe you should’ve worked out a bit before trying to steal those heavy weights!” laughed the security guard.
“What do you think I want them for?” retorted the scrawny boy.
Justin Boyd writes and draws the webcomic Invisible Bread and is half of the duo behind Left-Handed Toons. He previously contributed Dental Scare.
Dr. Ruination plotted to steal the Mona Lisa for months.
He had a forgery commissioned so the theft would go unnoticed. His minions entered the Louvre and exchanged the Mona Lisa with their forgery.
They were crestfallen to discover someone had already stolen it, this replica going unnoticed until now.
This is the first in a series of five stories by King Kool.