A quick word to our readers!
Our Managing Editor is out sick for a while, hoping to return with more stories next week. Get well soon, Camille! Rate this story: average 5 stars • 12 reader(s) rated this
A DRUG CALLED FICTION • by James Burt
Rich looked at the pill. It seemed far too small to do what it was supposed to. “Is it safe?” he asked. “Nothing is really safe,” said Derek. “If you don’t take risks, you might as well sit at home… Continue Reading
THE GRIMM METHOD • by Tim Boiteau
The wolf clambered across the roof of the brick house, wriggled into the chimney, fell and plunged into a cauldron of boiling water. The three pigs cheered, their beady eyes flashing within the deep recesses of their doughy faces, as… Continue Reading
SMILE • by Gordon Sun
“Faye Taylor!” “Yes?” “Someone bailed you out.” The policeman unlocked the holding cell and swung the door open. “What? How?” The cop jerked a thumb at the exit. “Talk to the officer out front.” “Um, thanks.” Faye wandered to the… Continue Reading
THE GIRL UNDER THE STAIRS • by Eliza Burks
The white house was spacious, well-adorned, and beautiful, but they made Lily live under the stairs. Her family said it was her fault. She’d been damningly different from her beginning. When she brought in the little bird who’d fallen from… Continue Reading
MARY BURNHAM • by Brandon Eldridge
It was the third time that week she sat next to me on the train. I think I was falling in love with her. Not the usual kind, the kind where you fall in love and regret it in a… Continue Reading
THE LAST TIME I SAW GARY WINSLOW • by Carla Lancken
We were good for a while till the shaking and the noise. The noise was deafening. My coffee cup turned over and the file cabinet dipped to the floor, spilling its contents like one of our hungover brokers. I grabbed… Continue Reading
THE EMPTY ROOM • by Larry Dyche
So kind, that Cadillac, slowed to give our girl her last ride. Cemeteries are green and peaceful, belying the tears that are left in their grasses. The gathering was small, Cathy and I were newcomers to town. Our girl was… Continue Reading
SMALL HANDS • by Huy Le
“I can do a cartwheel, want to see?” The little girl turned hand over feet across the playground. She cartwheeled three times and landed on her knees, smiling over her shoulder. I wondered who this little girl was and why… Continue Reading
WE ATOMIC CHILDREN — II • by Vincent W. Sakowski
I was at the park and saw so many men with huge holes in their chests, playing their games. So much happened through the holes… Some had poles through them and were carried along, with their feet dangling on the… Continue Reading