“Woah, what’s that?”
“A titan of eternal torment and fire, birthed from the maw of hell, knowing nothing of love or life, seeking only the end of all that has ever been and ever will be?”
“Yeah, but how did it get here?”
“You forgot to shut the door, Einstein.”
Brandon King is a volunteer for Leading Edge Magazine, an awesome sci-fi/fantasy publication that will publish and/or edit your short stories, poems, or artwork.
“I love snowpeas,” she said, piling the green smiles into her bowl.
“I wonder how they feel about you.”
“What?”
“I wonder if the remaining pods are fuming over the destruction of their brothers and planning a Guy Fawkes-style vendetta evenas we speak.”
“So… How’s that therapy going?”
“Fine, why?”
Corinne currently resides in Ohio, where she derives most of her inspiration from urban decay, an alarm clock, and her bathroom mirror.
“You shall suffer my wrath, puny one!”
“Perhaps I shall, but you, too, shall suffer it, I think.”
“Indeed I won’t. My own wrathfulness amuses me.”
“Yet does it not also give you heartburn?”
“It has not done so before.”
“Nuts. What shall I do with all this Tums, then?”
“I don’t know…”
I gritted my teeth. “Make up your mind! I can’t stand your waffling.”
“Both options look good!” she protested. “I hate being forced to choose…”
“Here,” I said, “I’ll choose for you.” I flung a waffle onto her plate.
“But,” she said, “maybe I want a pancake…”
This story is based on a title suggested by @PoshPlatypus.
You never know it’s coming until it arrives. You think you’re prepared, you think you’ve thought through all the contingencies, you think you’re a quick reactor, and then BAM, it hits you, and you find yourself crying to the Heavens, “Why me!?”
That unscratchable itch, just barely out of reach…
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “you never know.”
“You’ve had five years,” said Lord Gurgatron. “What have you accomplished?”
The little alien scientists beamed. “We’ve sabotaged many of the humans’ toilets to only flush halfway on the first attempt!”
“…And?”
“This will soon incite insurrection against their plumber overlords!”
“They are ruled by plumbers?”
“So our research indicates.”
This story is based on a title suggested by @RobertRacoon.
Gina’s tea tumbled onto the floor. “Oh no!” she cried, reaching for the paper towel.
“Wait!” said Patrick. “The last time you dropped your tea, the spill looked like a heart, and you met your boyfriend later that day. This time, it’s…”
“Just a puddle.”
And then the basement flooded.
This story is based on a title suggested by @KingKool.
“Hello, nurse.”
“Good morning!”
“What’s on the menu today?”
“Appendix removal with side salad is on special, and Doctor Jones is whipping up his homemade double bypass.”
“Sounds wonderful, but I’m on a budget today. I’ll take a half-order of hip replacement, please.”
“Certainly. Don’t forget to tip your orderly!”
This story is based on a title suggested by @Invariel.
There is a monster in the mountains that preys on bumblebees, daffodils, and woodland creatures, swallowing them whole into its enormous belly.
Some say there’s a garden in there, a paradise where the flowers bloom and the wildlife lives on, frolicking. They’ve forgotten that the monster once swallowed a bear.
This story was based on the prompt “in the mountains” on TypeTrigger.
She transferred to four different buses at random, closed her eyes and spun in a circle, walked down a few unfamiliar side streets, and wound up right in front of her house.
Again.
There was only one explanation: Mom hadn’t been lying; her father really had been a homing pigeon.