Category: Short Story
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The Road by E.E. King
I didn’t mean to kill her – not really. But it’s hardly an excuse- especially because I’d been hired to do exactly that. I can still see the moment of death – I probably always will. It was less gruesome and more final than I’d expected… if I’d expected anything.…
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Catching Up by Edward Ahern
She was halfway into her seat before he looked up from his phone. “Hello, Frank. They’ve changed the name of the restaurant. Antoine’s now.” She talked too quickly. “Hello Rebecca, you look great.” She picked up her menu, reddening slightly. “Sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting long?”…
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El Valle de Cafe by Jonathan Ferrini
Dearest Yvette: I write to you beneath a candle on a small desk within my spartan quarters. It’s late in the evening, and all is quiet, except for the subtle melody of the tropical birds awaiting sunrise. The delicate flame dances about creating gorgeous amber hues and shadow images…
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Spartacus Along the Silk Road by Eric Smith
Prelude:It is better to invite one thousand sinners to a party of saints than unleash one neutral man among the good. The opposite of course is not true. Jaguars, ambivalent loners, unlike proud lions, are always restless until they pounce. China. She’s jealous… When China wants a new religion,…
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The Digger by Marco Etheridge
Digging for old bones is best done by night and the digger knows this. He wields his shovel under starlight and moonlight, serenaded by the nocturnal creatures of the Missouri woods. The night is ebony edged in silver, but it ain’t quiet. Whippoorwills mourn their own name from maple…
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Goddess of the Beach by Zack Taft
She settled herself into the warm sand; her eyes closed for a moment. It felt like a dream. She was barefooted and wearing a red dress, a floppy straw hat, and oversized sunglasses. “Grampa, will you stop that?” He was doing an embarrassing dance on the white sand, mumbling…
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A Victorian Affair by Perry Genovesi
When Ellen landed at the tunnel’s end, she noticed, under clouds of soot, a lone rowhome. It appeared like the thousands across the city – three stories, all brick, cornbread-yellow shutters. Each window was dirt-coated or bathed in shadow. What was it doing here, in the ruins of an old…
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Too Many Heavens by Bill Schillaci
The homes atop Pine Crest, the highest road in the town, were baronial and of another age, even with the obvious modernizations, the central AC units secreted behind muscular rhododendron bushes, the security cameras bolted to the roof soffits and the automatic sprinkler heads and child-safe trampolines in the front…
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While She Sleeps by Bob Tomolillo
Last night my Icelandic wife spoke Spanish in her sleep. “Es muy importante,” she said. Many years ago she vacationed in Barcelona. Sometimes she sleeps with her arms outstretched. “There are a lot of people in my head at night,” she says, as I help her slip…