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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…

The second of the planets twin suns dipped into the ocean, which began to burn in colors red and purple. The darkening sky reflected this, as clouds danced across a firmament on fire. Sooleigh, alone from her village, sits outside the village walls on the cliff top watching the dragons fly.  Dancing in unison against the setting suns. She doesn't move as she hears the heavy step of The Villous-Man approach.

Margaret leaned back in her chair and looked about her room. The mid afternoon sun streamed in through the living room curtains picking up the dust particles and outlining the many pointless ornaments that littered the room.

Margaret Summers, was one of the most successful and prolific fantasy writers of the 21st century. With 37 novels to her name, she knew what she was doing, and what she was doing was novel number 38.

Margaret learnt long ago the secret to good writing was just this – writing and plenty of it. So she always made a point to write a chapter a day. It was a lot by most people's standards, but Margaret never really had trouble writing, often it was the stopping that stumped her.

She stretched, deliciously content in a job well done. It was barely three and already her work was done for the day.

There was a knock at the door. Although expecting someone, Margaret panicked. Anything that forced her to face the outside world sent her into a cold sweat. Padding down the hall in her slippers, Margaret faced the door as if facing her doom. With shaking hands, she began to unfasten the locks, three, four, five. Then slowly she turned the handle and allowed the weight of the door swing itself open.  The sunlight hit her like a sledgehammer and she was momentarily winded. Blinking, she held onto the door handle as if grasping onto a life buoy. It took her a few moments to register a presence on the other side of the door. But something spoke and Margaret was able to collect her thoughts enough to see there was a deliveryman standing in front of her

"Your groceries Ma'am"

Margaret stepped out of his path, letting him into her sanctuary. She kept hold of the door handle for safety as he deposited the boxes in the kitchen.  In a matter of seconds he was done. It felt like a lifetime to Margaret. Just as the deliveryman was leaving, Margaret felt compelled to speak.

"Right, thank you. See you in a fortnight."

It was a triumph. She beamed as she began to barricade herself back into her home.

*


The dragons were disappearing. The Villous-Man had told her. But she didn't need The Villous-Man to tell her their numbers were dwindling. Their fire dance almost a memory, as their magnificent shapes disappeared from the night sky. Even the villagers were noticing. They couldn't decide whether to…

A scream disrupted Margaret's train of thought, but it was happening outside in that other world that didn't concern her. Before she could resume her writing, she heard another scream. A siren went off followed by the sound of running footsteps, doors slamming, a baby crying. Curiosity became too much, even for her and she moved to the window, twitching the curtain only a little, she peered out. What she saw left her gasping for breath.

What can only be described as rips in the sky, great gouges across the vista letting in colors of deep red and purple like some alien sunset. It was both terrifying and beautiful at the same time. Once over the initial shock, Margaret did what any sane woman would do in these circumstances; she turned on the TV, flicking between channels, desperate for information. No one seemed to know anything. They appeared, great rents in the sky, sometime after lunch. They didn't seem to be doing any damage, but what they meant was anyone's guess.

After half an hour of channel surfing, Margaret's curiosity had dulled somewhat and besides, there was still a chapter to finish.

*


The last of the dragons were gone. The villagers didn't care, didn't see the significance. The changes in seasons, in tides. Sooleigh alone amongst the villagers cared. The Villous-Man approaches her as she stands on the cliff top watching the now empty sky.
"They are gone." He mumbles into his fur. She nods. "They need to return"
"Yes"
"You must bring them back" He looked at her for the first time
"But how?"

Margaret was distracted. She shouldn't write distracted. But ever since the rips in the sky had appeared, she had left the TV on when she was writing, waiting for news. And today she got news

Dragons. Real, actual, live, fire breathing dragons in the sky. No one seemed to know for sure, but they appeared to have come in from the rips in the sky. They were flying high, doing this intricate and beautiful aerial dance.

She looked for a second at her computer, her story, the missing dragons, then shrugged, just a coincidence. It was almost funny really.

For a moment, Margaret wished she could go outside & watch the beautiful animals, but she would be content with the coverage on TV.

It seemed there were hundreds of them, these beautiful, magical creatures. Spread out over the country. Flying high in the atmosphere. Ignorant of the commotion below. They seemed to be dancing an intricate pattern, each centered below a red/purple rent in the sky.

What was also remarkable, the news reporter told Margaret, was the fact that, although spring, it had just begun to snow.

*

Sooleigh stands on the snow capped cliff top holding the amulet before her.
"It is time" The Villous-Man shivers involuntarily
"Can't you come with me?" For the first time Sooleigh looks the frightened 14 year old she is
"I will be there when you need me" He takes the amulet from her shaking hands and places it tenderly around her fragile neck.

Then what? Margaret was stuck. She never got stuck. This was unnerving. For the first time in her life, Margaret had writers block.

She stared blankly at the page for what felt like hours and what may have been close to five seconds before abandoning her computer and beginning to pace the room. She began to talk to herself.

"Now Sooleigh has the amulet, where does she go?"

"Wherever the dragons are, obviously."

"Where the heck are they?"

"Down the street at the moment."

"No, seriously, another world, another dimension or another time?" Here she paused, weighing up the options.

"It’s all getting a bit science fiction…" And then, straining, as if out of practice, Margaret swears

"…Balls!"

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