The man used to chastise the dog for drinking from scummy puddles beside the road.
That extra-hard leash-yank was what returned to him after the water was gone, when he and the dog both lapped at rare graces of liquid, the man’s knees muddied.
Eventually, the dog had to go.
Evan McMurry’s fiction has been published in more than one dozen journals, including Post Road, Euphony, Arcturus, Oddville Press, Lotus-Eater Magazine, Palaver, Mulberry Fork Review, and more. His story “Nothing Kinky” won the New Millennium Fiction Prize, and his story “Nixon in Heaven” won Exposition Review’s Flash Fiction contest. “The Fall of Rabbi Gold” was selected as a finalist for the Al-Simāk Award for Fiction from the Chicago Review of Books.
The other owners at the dog park eyed Stonewall curiously, attempting to make sense of the dog’s ticking movements. Ian welcomed the attention. Only another skilled horologist would understand the complex automatic movement, and only someone who’d buried one too many beloved dogs would understand his need to build one.
Ran Walker is an award-winning author of sixteen books. He teaches creative writing at Hampton University in Virginia.
Olivia awoke to a charred hole above her bed and a small, adorably demonic winged creature, which fidgeted with excitement on her chest.
Olivia petted its oily red hide and mimicked its playful chirps, as she noted the iron collar’s inscription: IF YOU’RE READING THIS, IT’S TOO LATE. I’M SORRY.
Scott is an Amazon best-selling author and short story writer. He lives and works in Texas with his wife, their two boys, and a pair of ridiculous Great Pyrenees pups. This is Scott’s third piece on 50-Word Stories. You can connect with Scott and find links to his work at amazon.com/author/scottluper.
A paw tapped Dan’s face, and he cracked open an eye. The clock said 4:30. He waved a hand the cat’s direction and grumbled incoherently.
The cat softly meowed.
Dan mumbled, “Go away,” and fell back asleep.
Sharp claws tapped Dan’s forehead. The clock said 5:45.
The cat said, “Now.”
Eddie D. Moore travels extensively for work, and he spends much of that time listening to audiobooks. The rest of the time is spent dreaming of stories to write, and he spends the weekends writing them. His stories have been published by Jouth Webzine, Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Theme of Absence, Devolution Z, and Fantasia Divinity Magazine. Find more on his blog.
Sara dreamed she had been walking Tippy. Pulling up in a Rolls, an eccentric billionaire had stopped to offer one million dollars for him. The offer was declined.
Waking, she mused that five million plus substantial visitation rights would be just about as low as she’d be willing to go.
Phil Huffy writes at his kitchen table in Rochester NY. His work has appeared in nearly one hundred literary journals.
Way back when, I’d lure the dog up into the indent on the empty side of the bed, where he’d arch his back along the comforter’s fold, sigh, slump, and twitch through sheep meadow dreams. His heart beat through my skin. I’d imagine him gone, you know, in self-preparation, pointlessly.
A Wallace Stegner Fellow at Stanford University, J.P. Grasser is a PhD candidate at the University of Utah, where he edits Quarterly West.
April loved Dylan from the moment she first saw him. His blue eyes pierced her soul. She knew there could be no other.
Crouching down, she beckoned to him. Dylan, husky in breed and build, ran into her waiting arms.
Love born in a shelter, but exactly who rescued whom?
Lisa Chambers is a Texas girl who loves words.
He needed a home. I let him move in. Bought a new bed. Fed him well. Tended to his every need. Let him sit by a real coal fire.
But every time I turned my back, he sneaked off to the woman down the road.
He was just another tom.
Mary Gunn writes short stories and poetry, including Japanese-style poems. She lives on the east coast of Ireland.
Johnny II finds his new home quite nice. Roomy, with a clear running tube. Good food and very clean.
Many visitors come at first, but then fewer.
His exercise wheel has developed a squeak—annoying, then soothing in time.
Memories of mother’s call as he rots in this lonely cage.
Iain L. Luen has a normal job, but hopes for rescue. He just wants to write and take pics. See more at deviantart.com/echoesofarchi.
He loved her, and although she professed her own, evidence proved the contrary. Her caresses could not mask philandering nights and whomever she spent them with.
Fantasies of freedom consumed his thoughts… until she scratched behind his ears, murmuring “Good boy.”
Still, sooner or later, she was bound to leave.
F.M. Johnson is a writer from Richmond, VA. Her book, Tales of the Supernatural, is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble Book Stores, and her website, fmjohnson.com.