Short Story

The Weight-Bearers
It was the sound of an altercation that pulled me from unconsciousness that morning. The words were incomprehensible at first and distorted by the temporary grogginess that had clouded me upon waking.
By L.P. Burgin5 years ago in Fiction
Never Forget
“Come on Hailey,” the man yelled, grabbing her hand. Hailey felt like her arm was pulled from her socket as she struggled to keep up with her father's pace.
By J.D. Valentine5 years ago in Fiction
Five Minutes Till' Death
In the year, 2130, the world fell back into war. America’s blitzkrieg of Western Europe sent shockwaves around the world and sparked the greatest conflict known to man. America, having already made most of Western Europe kneel to their might, now planned the complete takeover of the European continent. Eastern European and Asian countries banded together with ANZAC forces to push America back into it’s own borders.
By Noah Weiss5 years ago in Fiction
For Blue Skies
“No one believes in Blue Skies anymore,” my childhood friend Rebecca said tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder in that haughty fashion that always ground my gears.
By Kohi Fuwafuwa5 years ago in Fiction
The Disappearance
It was over a year ago when a quarter of the earth's population disappeared in a blink of an eye. No one knew what was happened that day but it was the worst day of everyone's life.
By Desiree Minerva 5 years ago in Fiction
The Word I Carry
I am the last of my language. The child I led through the wild snows has just died. She was not mine, but when her family perished, I felt obliged to cover her in my own furs. I was happy to do it. Sofe was old enough to ask questions. With no other adult left to talk to, her barrage of whys sustained my sanity. Now even that is gone. I can move faster without the weight of her insistence on being carried, but I'd rather have two of her on my back than the empty howl of the tundra as my only companion.
By Saralyn Caine5 years ago in Fiction
The Escape
Sage wiped the splattered black blood from her eyes as she frantically felt around in the sand searching for the heart-shaped locket. It was the key to her escape; she could not move on without it.
By Emily Mainor5 years ago in Fiction
Midas
A wooden crate sits in a warehouse, glad that the shooting has finally stopped. A man sits there, cleaning his mox-rifle. An hour ago the warehouse had been full of men and trucks and boys. Now it is full of ghosts.
By Deej5 years ago in Fiction
No More Ringing
Ananas slowly trudged into her extravagant Haussmannian apartment in the 8th arrondissement in Paris. As she anxiously took off her muddy light-up Minnie Mouse sneakers, she noticed just how high the smooth ceilings were. She wondered if she would ever be tall enough to lick them. They would taste like cheese, she decided. Maybe camembert, maybe gouda. At only five years old, she often impressed her family’s friends with her extensive knowledge of Foods For The Rich.
By Nelly Zerbib5 years ago in Fiction
Grandma's Heart
The heart is scratched. I stare at the forbidden jewelry nestled within my salty palm. Scooped from the ocean. Rescued, even. Moonlight glints off the golden heart-shaped locket in tiny shards that hold my gaze captive, even as the waves rush the beach, the rhythmic crashing urging me to hurry. Hurry.
By Jessica Nelson 5 years ago in Fiction
Hepathica
It took the government three generations, 93 years, to eradicate feeling from language in Hepathica. Sometime in the 2030s, a power-hungry, no, a power-starved group in what remained of the 1% decided an emotionally-castrated society would be more productive. Laws were passed, heart-shaped lockets smashed, books were burned, curriculums reconstructed, and rebellions annihilated without a trace. It wasn’t pretty and it most definitely was not easy.
By circadiansam5 years ago in Fiction
Outbound
It was all I had left of her, and it was my only way out. Earth is a bad memory, Mars, a nightmare. If I wanted a future on Titan I needed to board that last shuttle.
By Hank Ryder5 years ago in Fiction