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Latest Stories

March 19, 2024
Fantasy Stories Wondering Monk

Just My Imagination

The alarm clock went off and started playing an awful tune. Tom opened his eyes and closed them back, squinting. He reopened one eye and stood up to stop the torture. The phone was on the desk, in the furthest spot from the bed. Although he changed his way of…
March 19, 2024
Science Fiction Stories Ocelotlzin

Earth Is Dead

Recording… It doesn't matter who I was; I probably lived a long time ago, and I am now just a voice someone added to the audio-visual records. What is essential is the recollection of events that lead to the current state. So, a little history needs to be…
March 08, 2024
Flash Fiction Benoit

Some Enchanted Evening

It was a rugby tackle with tears: Chrissy burst in, sobbing and babbling, hugging James. Her face was all wet, eyes wild. What…? My parents split up, Dad has moved in with his boyfriend and I cannot join them. I am shut out. I have lost my dad. Torrent of…
March 08, 2024
Horror Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

In The Hands Of My Legs

The car pulled up in front of the large salon. The neon sign, that sexy broad thing, on the salon'sroof read "Mr. Gil's All-night Salon". The exhaust pipe of the car was pumping solid smoke, theswirls moving from the car and towards the salon.…
March 07, 2024
Mystery Stories Vanessa Leigh Giles

Casualty of Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Chapter 1 Until Death do us Part ‘Ring, ring!’. I answered the telephone and asked, “Hello, good evening. Who’s this? “Hello.” This is Dr. Smith from Red Cross hospital. “Is this Mr. Locke, John?”, he asked, hesitantly scratching his bald head. “Yes, doctor.…
March 07, 2024
Crime Stories Robert Pook

Bar Room Trigger

Another return journey on footpaths so familiar. He strides across each crack in each paving stone. Regular loose drain covers sidestepped. Mapping long ago mapped in Richard’s desolate mind. His pace hastened by the sight of the oncoming storm. Quickening…
March 04, 2024
Horror Stories Ano Chinemerem

Sanctity

Where should I begin? I could begin by telling you about this comely boy, whom every notable person around the streets agrees his smile could charm the bills off one. Between one smile, there was his goodness, his dreams and humanity—a little far ahead?— but…
March 04, 2024
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

Et Mortui Partium

As Rafael stepped out into the rain, it wasn't the ordinary drops that fell from the sky. Instead, it was a storm of souls, each one taking the form of shimmering jewelry as it cascaded toward the ground. Rubies, diamonds, and sapphires twinkled amidst the…
February 29, 2024
Poetry Jing Li Ava

London

‘Am I in London?’ "I am." Where is Elizabeth? Happy living story All of your chapter Bounlance joy Please my heart Power hand Wise mind Our baby Vow vow Love all love Miss I miss Endless wonder Bring us together Love all love Miss I miss For everything My…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Rob Pook

Life Sentence of The Smith

Born nine months after his country won the World Cup.A child prodigy.Cast off at age twenty-four.Husband, father, emigree, away on the other side of the world.The blue-collar life.The dreams of success.The search for fulfillment.The long years of empty…
February 29, 2024
Mystery Stories Joshua Lowther

The Operator

Jason looked over to his right, his eyes barely able to focus themselves on the subject of his attention. His neck ached terribly from the strenuous movement. He was tired. The captain’s gaze came to rest on the rookie sonar operator sitting tense at his…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Salvatore Difalco

The Chute

At dusk, we left our unit with a soft pink bundle. I carried it through the wet streets and into the black woods. I said I’d take it all the way, the bundle, but that we had to drop it in together. My wife’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t make me do that.” I…

She had to get away.  The timing wasn't ideal, but when was it ever?  Her boyfriend of six years proposed last month and she had said yes.  They met at one of the Marist College dining halls.  He was a junior, she a sophomore.  There might have been a slight drizzle outside that afternoon.  Since that fateful day, they've been together.  The two of them were happy together, but there was nothing particularly special about their relationship.  Did she love him?  She was kind to her, she knew that.

Her boss, an attractive woman in her mid thirties, hadn't approved her last minute request for a week off.   What a bitch.  Not deterred, she bought her ticket to Europe anyways with some of the money her and her fiancé had put aside for the wedding.  He was surprised she wanted to get away for a week, but supported her decision nonetheless.  So kind.  She conveniently failed to mention to him the plane ticket she bought was one way.  Oh well.

Three months later...in bathroom stall at De Club Up in Amsterdam, she snorts a line of coke she scored from the bouncer with a lady she had met at the same club a week prior.  There's a message written in black magic marker on the stall door, and although her Dutch is adequate, neither her nor her newfound friend can read it, do to their level of intoxication.  She's done a lot of cocaine the past month and has lost some weight because of it.  House music blaring from the resident DJ rattles the bathroom floor.  Six hours from now, she's supposed to board a plane back to the States, but that is of no concern to her now.   If she misses it, she misses it.  The same thing happened last month and the month before that.  Her friend asks for toilet paper and she pulls out a roll from her purse.  Always handy.  As she wipes, they argue over where to go next.  Her friend has spent most of the night grinding up on some rando and wants them to go back to his flat.  She has no interest in being the third wheel and lets that be known.  A lady in six inch stilettos bangs on the stall door and yells at them to hurry up.  What a bitch.  They tell her to buzz off.

Even with the music pounding, they can both hear that someone left one of the two bathroom sinks running.  The line of coke has her feeling good and she no intention of leaving the club anytime soon.  Besides, she looks damn good in the lavender dress she borrowed from the friend alongside her now.  Outside, there's a street vendor that sells herring.  Among all the arguing and commotion in the bathroom, they both suddenly realize how funny their current predicament is.  Each doing bumps as the other one pees.  They laugh so loud the ladies in the other stalls can hear.  The two of them embrace for an extended moment and help each other wipe the residue off their noses with toilet paper.  All cleaned up, the twosome agree to reconvene in the bathroom after another hour on the dance floor.  Banging on the stall door comes once again from the bitch in stilettos.  Words are exchanged as they leave the stall.  For the first time, she notices the restroom is dimly lit red.  That would be the last thing she would notice that evening, as the rest of the night became a blur.

She awoke 3pm the next afternoon on the futon of that rando's third floor flat.  Flight missed.  Oh well.  Still wearing the lavender dress, she knew she had remained faithful to her fiancé.  They corresponded via email.  He sent one daily, she responded weekly.  Odd she thought, that he had so much to say and she so little, though she was the one exploring the world and he was the one stuck in his daily routine back home.  Three kids could be heard kicking a soccer ball down below.  Would she marry him?  Once her money ran out and there were no more couches to crash on, then yes, yes she would marry him.  Lethargically looking out the living room window, she pondered why she kept pushing back her return date?  The answer was obvious, yet saying it aloud was not.  Saying it in person to him would be even less so.  How could she tell her fiancé she felt more alive in a bathroom stall with a relative stranger than she had in the past six years with him?

Back on the futon, staring at the crack in the ceiling, she laid in silence.  Was it raining that day they met at Marist?  She can’t seem to recall.

 

End

 

bio: I'm Brian Glass and thanks for reading.  I'm a stand-up comedian that hardly ever gets paid to perform.  You can see me telling inappropriate jokes in bars and small clubs all across the Northeast. Founder and chief content officer for aftertimeexpires.com.  Hit me up at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it./@brianglss

 

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