Short stories & poems for everyone from everyone
Serial Fiction It’s me, your humble narrator. Rituals are what keep you sane, believe it or not. Espresso in the morning, drink after work, milk before bed, steak and eggs, black socks, haircut,...
Short Story The Chameleon finished enjoying the sun and the chat with Lemur. It enjoyed a good conversation but the Lemur’s beliefs were clouding its own. It preferred conversing with its own kind...
Serial Novel ‘Ok, then.’ The Butcher tried to suggest him the door. ‘I can finally get out of here and go say ‘hi’ to my ladies downtown. Unfortunately in America women are aware...
Short Story The Lemur left relived and uplifted. It put the shell back on its neck and started leaping from tree to tree. It forgot about its troop and dying. It thought that even...
Serial Novel The rain was back. And. He was orchestrating the hanging of the Baker’s pieces. He had a team of ten and it would take them about six hours. He could hang...
Short Story The boat hugged the coast for a while longer before it made a turn for the open sea. The two giants navigating the small vessel in turns made no conversation. While one...
Serial Story I woke up. The couch cushions hid my pack of cigarettes. I ripped them off and lit one. The tar and ash accentuated the cotton dry mouth. My thirst became more...
Short Story Mark and Dana had never tried Afghani cuisine before. They weren’t sure they’d ever try it again, but their friends had recommended the place, which felt exactly like they supposed an Afghani restaurant was supposed to...
Short Story The young woman felt for the subway beggar. She always felt for the subway beggars. Sometimes she gave, sometimes she didn’t. It depended on their appearance, their spiel, their perceived credibility …...
Short Story And so, the cities burned. A plague of fire, ash, and cinder awash between great monuments and temples to achievement, set to ruin by the will of a Titan of Olympus. Across...
Short Story I was nine when my parents were murdered. We lived in a small cottage in the English woods. My father worked at a hardware store in town and my mother spent her...
Short Story The Mosquito emerged from its wet shell. It was parked motionless on a tree leaf in the sun, so its wings could dry and it could begin its journey. The past few...
