God said, “I give you life!”
The Devil said: “I want more than life!”
Then the sin of pride sent the demon
tumbling like crooked dice
down the stairway to heaven.
One question the Devil still asks:
“Did I fall or was I pushed?”
The fight to know consumes him.
Fred Zackel teaches literature at Bowling Green State University in Ohio. He is the author of COCAINE AND BLUE EYES and MURDER IN WAIKIKI, and these and other writings are available on Kindle.
“Do you feel like you are crazy?” she said with a brief pause.
When all she got was a look, she continued, “Because I do. All these people around me talk about things no one cares about. They go from work to home and back again. How is that living?”
Miranda Thomason lives at the southern tip of the Appalachian Mountains. After completing the novel On the Mercy of the World, Miranda is writing short stories.
My heart felt like it was being ripped to shreds, over and over.
I could only read his lips from that distance but I knew what he was saying.
I love you, he said. Her smile said the same.
I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t. Instead, I stared.
Katie studied screenwriting and fiction writing in college and hopes to one day pursue her MFA in creative writing. She currently guest blogs for Grads.Co.UK and runs a travel business. Her work has or will be appearing in Bewildering Stories, Down in the Dirt and Prospective Journal. She currently lives in North Carolina. You can find her blog here: http://writingandwanderlust.wordpress.com/
“We’re at apogee in five, four, three, two, one.”
The booster fired, then the engines; a sustained burn using half the remaining fuel.
“Systems are one niner zero and holding.”
Ahead, the gas giant started to swallow its moon, soon to be left behind again.
“Roger, and… Wait! What is…”
Stuart Turnbull is a feckless no-gooder with a tendency to fantasize. He mainly cares for the house, and occasionally writes a story or two.
“Hand it over,” he snarls again, the gun still leveled at me.
I stand firm, gripping the briefcase, a defiant smirk on my face. “No.” I can tell the gun is not loaded.
BLAM! Blood, a burning in my shoulder. The briefcase drops to the ground.
I’ve been wrong before.
Chris Burdett is a husband, father, writer, photographer, and college English instructor who lives in Loganville, GA.
I maintain a special, discreet, bed and breakfast.
You are provided with an elegant room with a fantastic view, and access to my amazing collection of prize dogs and cats.
If you’re a pet lover, while away a pleasant evening with these beautiful animals.
Then in the morning, you’re breakfast.
Joe Malone is living in a mud hut in South Sudan. Read more from him athttp://joem18b.wordpress.com/.
Page after page I became increasingly convinced: I could have easily written this book myself! The sentences were short, the words simple. It would’ve turned me into an overnight literary sensation, much to the jealousy of my writer friends.
“Hmph,” I said, pressing pen to paper. Here’s what came out:
.
Debbi Antebi (@debbisland) lives in Istanbul, Turkey, and blogs at http://debbiantebi.com.
I face a conundrum. It’s that old saying about taking life’s travails and making lemonade. Why? Lemons are bitter. Add water and sugar – the result is still bitter. So there you are alone with your problems trying to make something.
My solution: go out for ice cream. You’ll feel better.
Eileen McIntyre is a writer from Northern California working on her first mainstream fiction novel. One of her essays will be published in an anthology by the end of the year.
The hare pulled back on the cigar, slipped the gun back into its side holster, and smiled down at the gunfighter, who was pressing a bloodied hand against the wound in his belly.
“You can’t ever pull faster than me.” It said and turned away from the dying man’s curses.
Gerard Mulligan has been published on various online sources.
I sit high up a tree. Below, branches crackle and woodland creatures
crash frantically through the forest.
Love like a forest fire.
I calmly clutch my tinderbox though the flames have reached
my tree’s roots.
Because once you’d said you’d leap through fire for me.
So, little grasshopper. I’m waiting.
Lisa Falzon has been writing 50-word stories for over ten years now. Her website is micro-fiction.blogspot.ie.