Of the over 5,000 numbers in the English language, it is the number 14 alone that has come to hold a special place in my heart. I’m not a superstitious woman, or a woman at all for that matter. I... [+]
Short Fiction
There’s nothing I love more than eating. Mmm, yes. Fat Boy loves a good meal. I enjoy the crunch, the squish, even the quietest sizzles as I grind every little particle between my molars. I... [+]
The liftoff is like an elevator.
You know that feeling you get when you’re going up? Like your stomach is getting left behind? It feels like that. Remember when we were kids and we were... [+]
There is no cheerful clatter of pans, or old Beatles records spinning in the living room. No warm cinnamon smell fills the air – only burnt coffee. For a moment, I’m half expecting Papa to swoop... [+]
It had been nearly fourteen years, but there you were on my morning commute. On your way to work like nothing had happened. Both of us on our ways to work as if nothing had happened.
You looked... [+]
I reached for the control strip and tapped the edit icon. Immediately, the scene changed to a woodland, dark fir trees casting long shadows beneath a heavy winter sky. For background effect, I added... [+]
When I get home from Sunday Service, I strip my pressed white shirt in the living room. I step out of my slacks. Peel off the tight black socks. I fumble naked for my dive skin, the black and blue... [+]
When there is no water left, we’ll leave. Until then, we ration what we pull from the well. Three-quarters of a bucket for drinking (a full one when the day gets above 90 degrees, which is... [+]
When you are a competent old man who lives alone, you can eat what you want for breakfast. This morning I had noodles, or rather noodle soup, a favorite of mine for colder weather. Broth with... [+]
Yet it was there, right there, in the corner at the back of the kitchen.
Emma could not understand. Her fridge, which she had opened just an hour ago to take out a tub of blueberry yogurt, was... [+]
Bella had long brown hair that swayed behind her as she walked down the library aisles looking for some books. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she spotted an old tattered burgundy journal one of... [+]
Disclosure: This story was prepared for a Tall Tales speech contest. However, This is a true story about a real personal encounter with the supernatural. Read at your own Risk.
On a long summe... [+]
Isn’t it tiresome to watch the world and all the meager dwellings of man below? At night, you’ll see that even the most vibrant traces of life are dimmed. Is it particularly interesting, then, to... [+]
Antiopa couldn’t breathe.
She writhed within the thin membrane holding her, unable to determine what was her and what had been her body, a thick soup which held her, constricting, and shifting... [+]
“I can’t understand what you want if you won’t talk to me!” April stood in the middle of her bedroom looking at her husband Frank lying on the bed.
Frank pulled the comforter over his... [+]
“Finally. Finally. I found you my queen of the world. Gaia mother to all that is now and to all that has been. Your temple which has been lost for so many years has finally been found, I have found... [+]
That night I woke up with a start.
The phone, resting on the bedside table, marked four thirty-six.
I turned to my husband to make sure he was asleep and then I stared at the wall facing the bed... [+]