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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…

It was the first time that I killed something. Did I say something? Actually, it was a person. A person, once, I fell deeply in love with. But now, as the singing goes, he is dead. Except, I did not pull the trigger. I killed him with a knife.

Can you believe it? Me, a five-foot woman, killed a 6-foot man with a shining blade, intestines inside and out. It feels so good, now that I remember it. The room is pitch black, only the curtain trembles occasionally with the wind. I don’t know where the wind comes from. Windows are closed. The weather report says it should be a peaceful night. I used to hate peaceful nights, I thought they were dull, tedious and lifeless, but now after all the charge, they really are lifeless.

How do I begin my story when everything happened so fast and ended so fast, and I guess my life ended too, when I propelled the blade into his spine – boom, he fell, and was dead. Laying there, motionless, he faced the door through which my memories came in and out, in and out, and it reminded me of the slide I once took when I was 5.

That was a good year for me, and perhaps the only good year. I remembered the day my father took me to the park, it was a local park, nothing fancy, yet joy submerged me. I never forgot that feeling, tingling with excitement, thrill, childhood gaiety.

My father seldom smiled, his face stern, body toned. Slap, smack, strike, constituted my father. He beat my mother until she ran away, and then, he hit me frequently. And when he took me to the park, I thought God finally answered my late-night, swollen-eyed prayer.

Naturally, I was wrong.

I was left alone in the park, until someone from the institution picked me up and moved me from one home to another. I lost count, and when I turned 18, I met Eric.

Then, he was no longer Eric. How should I address him in the future? My late husband? My lost lover? I simply did not give a fuck. I shed no tears because this was the night I had been waiting for. The past year had been difficult, and that was what the writers call an understatement.

Have you ever been held up high and smashed to the ground? You lose consciousness, and when you wake up, another wave of dark tide awaits you…You hope the day comes sooner, but it never happens. No daylight can stop the beast. He perches quietly on the higher ground, waiting for you to wake up and suffocate you with the shadowy, starless night.

And now, the wind comes in, along with it, is the taste of liberty.

Eric treated me well in the beginning, he bought me flowers, walked me home, took me out for dinners. But nothing good lasted long, not in my world. He lost his job during the pandemic, someone called him Chink on the street, but he was Vietnamese, he served in the Iraq war. Not that it matters.

He loved America, but his love remained unreturned.

And I became the symbol for his deterred American dream.

It is because of you, your white skin, your pale, lifeless white skin…And what about mine? I served the country, what did you do for America? Answer me , what did you do for this country? Nothing …literally nothing.. you and your skunk white family …you ruined me and you ruined this country…”

I didn’t know what to say. Was I privileged? I tried to search for the answer in my memories. Was I privileged when my mom died of an overdose? Was I privileged when my father left me in the park? Perhaps I was privileged, because after all, I went to college and got a job in a store. I guess I was.

At first, I felt sorry for Eric, so I let him beat me. Night after night, whenever he was drunk, he beat me. Whenever he felt sorry for his life, he beat me. I thought about fighting back, but I gave up. I pushed his face, scratched his arm, pulled his hair, all in vain, only a heavier punch awaited me throughout all my efforts of getting myself free.

And that night, I found my weapon.

A fruit knife. I think Eric was the one who bought it. I used it to open my parcel, to cut fruit, to gash my wrist and then to murder Eric.

Bio: Literature teacher; life-long words player. Longing for retirement. Particularly interested in James Salter type of syntax and fascinated by James Baldwin’ s world.

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