Stories tagged short-story

Power Ballad

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Her eyes were brown. But he wasn’t sure. He looked again: her eyes were blue. Her eyes were blue, and looking straight at him.

THE BRUCES

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Colin said, one Sunday afternoon, not to let pushbike Bruce take me camping, “even if your Mother thinks it’s a good idea”.

DEEP IN THE WOODS

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During one of those rubber limbed summers the Authorities were hunting a killer. All over the city hung posters stating a bounty and the 150 thousand made my mouth water.

THE LOST ART OF TOAD CALLING

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Considering that this guy was bellowing his insane musings it was inevitable that those female cops would hear him.

MELANCHOLY WRECKS

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I knew this little woman whose car was a violent rambling damp machine. All the vinyl seats were split and the yellow foam stuck to your clothes.

CARBON 9

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So the guard just handed me 2 sheets of paper and a rubber pencil.

Moth, by Stanley Blade

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My best friend’s little Sister always had the right amount of innocence and gullibility. We would hide up on the roof of his house with a bucket of ice water and call her out.

CARBON 9

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So the guard just handed me 2 sheets of paper and a rubber pencil. The guy sitting beside me asked for a bucket of fried chicken as his last indulgence. I’d prefer to tell the story. I’ll try to make it spicy and eas

A LEOPARD SANCTUARY

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There are many ways to begin this story, and it nearly ended when Clay fell off a cliff.

SPREE

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I’ve been sitting here going over the plan, meticulously, I might add. Here’s the disclaimer. I know you cannot plan chaos, which is most certainly what will ensue.

Big Al Dissects Literary Fiction since No One Else in the Bar could pronounce Aristotle

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“Well” I say. “What do you think about the dilemma of a guy who’s tortured by a history of incest and bondage?” “Depends” Says Al. “On who was cested and who was bonded.

Melliflua and the Fauns

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In the land of Nebbia, the mistiest part of Etruria, it was the month of Agnosto, when anything can happen, and Melliflua was pondering what to do about the fauns.

Anna Makes an Effort

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Ben was the kind of man who could say, "I'm enjoying the pinkness of the sky," and, instead of sensing sarcasm, you would actually look up.

An Insurrection (revised)

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I started to speak in tongues, some would say uttered nonsensical sound poetry. People would tell me to speak clearly and try to make sense. The deterioration of my “normal” style of reputedly “enigmatic” yet “compelling” communication skills

Smiles Etched Into Stone

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A section of the baseball field that curved inward was filled with clear water. Birds were dipping their feet and the tips of their wings in. The sun set them apart enhancing the ice-sharp oblivion in their eyes. I swore I heard them say "Marry me.