Pariah Queen
Short Story She never meant to kill anyone. Or anything. In this moment nostalgia yet again hotfooted through her synapses; a jagged, fiery sensation. Her mother was a striking artist and a fashionable smoker....
Category: Short Stories
Ode to Grandfathers
Short Fiction “What was grandpa like?” Katie, surprised, dropped her book and turned around to face her younger brother. “What?” “I’m pretty sure you heard me the first time,” replied Jackson. “I’m assuming you mean...
Animal Dilemmas – Pig Lizard
Short Story The Lizard was used to attacks of the sort. As if every living creature wanted a piece of its home. The Lizard knew exactly what to do and how to time it....
A Letter to Javier Marias
Short Story Dear Your Royal Highness, The Esteemed Javier Marías, I am writing to submit to you my candidacy for Duke of Redonda. In doing so, I shall list the qualities that here to...
A Silver Knife, a Locket and a Ring
Short Story It was a beautiful day! Mr. Stark Salestone and his family were taking a trip in their car. The gleaming red car was a spacious one, accommodating comfortably all the five of...
River of Rats, Part One – Clichy-sous-Bois
Short Story It was early summer when Joanna and I arrived in Paris. The spring rains had just cleared and left behind a reflective sheen on the old cobblestones. Everything had a sort of misty...
The Wind Blew And The Old House Groaned, Part One – The Damp House
The old damp house dripping wet and sagging from the rain loomed ahead on the hill. The two boys stood in front of the gate paralyzed. “Come on, don’t be such a wuss,” said...
Up The Spiral Staircase
Short Story I ran up to the thick wooden door and heaved it open as quickly as I could. I hurried inside the room and pulled the door shut and latched it with...
The Human Comedy: Gary Golson Goes to the Gym
Short Story Gary Golson had to go to the gym Three weeks of apathy had happened to him Three weeks of atrophy had worn his limbs slim He had to get back to the gym...
The Mondays
Short Story I was told I was dying on a Monday morning. Mondays are usually just a lame excuse to be grumpy or bitchy, but I think I had a legitimate excuse to have...
Saturday Afternoon
Short Story The woman came by each Saturday afternoon with a record player and a considerable stack of records. The hands that dropped them into place were heavily veined and thick with age, shaking...
Beat – Part Three
Short Story Air flooded into my lungs in a shuddering gasp, the silence blinding me. No. No. No. “Eric, is everything all right?” The teacher was walking toward me in slow motion, but I was...
