As a young nanny, I adored him quietly, this boy. When he turned twelve, I bought a drone so he could fly-fly-fly away from selfish parents. At fifteen, I taught him how to navigate black, winding roads.
At twenty-one, he came back to me, before the March rain, in bloom.
Angela Carlton wrote this story.
Death didn’t want him.
So he came back and lived under the porch.
Mostly, he’s quiet. I leave out food sometimes, but he never eats it.
The best part is how he drives away the solicitors and evangelists.
I just wish he didn’t scare away the little girls selling cookies.
Nissa Harlow lives in British Columbia, Canada where she dreams up strange stories and writes some of them down. She is the author of a number of novels and novellas, all embellished with a touch of the fantastic. You can find her online at nissaharlow.com.
“My goodness – triplets!” The woman clucked over the babies. “How do you tell them apart?” Hannah just smiled.
Later, as the girls splashed in their bath, Hannah noticed the ‘F’ on the bottom of Felicity’s foot was fading. She darkened it with marker, then blew raspberries on her daughter’s toes.
K. L. Mill is a voice actor, another profession that revolves around words. Most recently her work has been published by Black Hare Press, Atomic Carnival, and Crepuscular Magazine.
The fog swirled in thick clouds. She heard a familiar voice. It was fading into the mists. She had to act quickly before it was gone forever. “What’s the afterlife like?” she called. A pause. “Confusing,” came her father’s voice. Letting go, at a loss yet somehow comforted, she awoke.
Sarah Tyk is an aspiring writer from Iowa and host of The Interested Reader podcast. An astronomy major in college and grad school, her true love has always been writing. She writes what she can, when she can; usually during her toddler’s naptime.
Your yoga teacher makes Triangle Pose look easy: raise your left hand, lean to the right, touch the floor. But after weeks of practice, you can barely reach your ankle.
“I just can’t get to the floor,” you sigh.
Your teacher’s unmoved. “I’ve been to the floor. There’s nothing there.”
Pamela Bloomfield is an independent consultant to governments and nonprofits. Her stories have appeared in Parhelion, Rivanna Review, Foliate Oak, Molecule, and other journals.
Day after day, Niles sits at the kitchen table contemplating the same glass of water. Is it half empty or half full? Niles realizes that once he’s peeled back all the perceptual layers, there is no glass. He just wishes his dad had finished the damn thing before he died.
Râna Campbell wrote this story.
You don’t see them. Not through your binoculars, not even when everybody else in the boat is yelling with surprise and delight. You don’t see them after searching and searching along the blue choppy water of the horizon. Still, your heart dances. It is enough to know they are there.
Hetty lives in Scotland and works in publishing. When not reading or writing, she likes exploring new places.
Raven sat on the branch of a strangler fig, staring sideways at the sun. The sun stared back. For a long while, neither moved. The world yawned. Then, gradually, the sun slunk down behind the hills.
“That’s what I thought,” said Raven, and took off, triumphant, into the gathering dusk.
Sam Hall is a writer from England. He lives in a cabin he built in an apple orchard, keeping bees and chasing after chickens.
After I called Mom
Listening to the remnants of her fragmented memory
Memories flooded my mind
Memories of
____hiding under a piano bench
____growing up and graduation
____her officiating my wedding
____divorces, worship and children
Memories that are now more a part of me
Than the woman who raised me
Stephen Wood is a professional magician working in Northern Texas, entertaining with his brand of magic, humor, and family observations.
The story of the week for September 30 to October 4 is…
Whispers by Angela Carlton