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Latest Stories

September 18, 2023
General Stories Timothy

Journey Into The Void

In a world veiled in enigma, my route into these depths may have seemed insignificant to others, but it held a certain significance to me. What truly mattered was that I was managing to emerge from this daunting journey with both my life and my sanity intact.…
September 10, 2023
Flash Fiction Sophia Sanchez

Black River

Renton, Washington age 14, long blonde hair, with scabs that ate away at her natural skin on her knee caps. She visits the local river as much as she possibly can, she states that it calls to her. Her parents observe her as she lingers by the shore, admiring…
September 10, 2023
Flash Fiction Benoit

The Kiss

Synopsis – James got lucky. He did not like the airport, no sir. The narrow alley leading out was loud, noisy, and crowded. Two announcements were clashing against one another. Just then, a cart behind him sounded its siren to move aside. When he got to the…
September 10, 2023
Crime Stories Jason Smith

The Bully

 Brad Tuttle was remembered as Jefferson High’s best ever quarterback or the high school bully, depending who was remembering him. He had gone steady with the head cheerleader Tiffany Ziggler and they were voted prom king and queen. He had also been voted…
September 02, 2023
Flash Fiction Gary Duehr

Block 87

There has been a murder in Block 87. A few miles away at PS 52 (Peace and Security branch 52), the gunshot finder pinged faintly at 4:13 pm, a green dot blinking on its screen like radar. A hovercraft with two officers, Badges 1087 and 3495 (a trainee and his…
September 02, 2023
Horror Stories Samantha Brooke

The Abandoned Cabin

Arthur lay in his bunk - unable to sleep both because of the uncomfortableness of his bed, and the uneasiness which swirled within him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the bed on his immediate right. The silver glow of moonlight which crept in…
August 26, 2023
General Stories Thomas Rokkala

James Jackson

It was 8 a.m in Martinez Commons at U.C Berkeley, James Jackson, who went by Jackson, woke up to his phone ringing. His friend Blake was calling to ask Jackson if he wanted to play Call of Duty Black Ops III. “Get on BO3”(Black Ops III) Blake demanded. “Dude,…
August 26, 2023
Horror Stories Steven Bruce

Ransom

The luxury saloon cruised along the dirt road at forty-four miles per hour. ''Bloody genius,'' Norman said from the passenger seat. ''I don't know why we didn't think of this before.'' Don watched the gothic mansion disappear from the rearview mirror.…
August 20, 2023
Fantasy Stories Dr Adyasha Acharya

The Mayhem City

‘Willa,’ Dale catches up with me as I hurry through the streets of The Mayhem City searching for the lost soul. Mayhem city is not one of your ordinary cities. It is where all the souls who get lost end up. The doors to Heaven and Hell are shut down for them.…
August 20, 2023
Flash Fiction Benoit

Wrest Point 1955

Synopsis – lost property can kill. Loud, Latin music rocked Skelly as he parked at Wrest Point, the epicentre of glamour and fun. That was a quake on the Richter scale of 3, no 4. The rich opposite don’t get much sleep, Skelly mused. He parked carefully since…
August 20, 2023
Science Fiction Stories Nelly Shulman

Welcome Adam

A white mist enveloped the mountains on the other side of the lake. The night of rain has left the lush greenery soaked in moisture and the emerald grass squelched under his feet. Adam smiled because the trees and bushes enveloping the observation post were…
August 20, 2023
Flash Fiction Benoit

Rescue Cinderella

Synopsis – Pan slipped up. Mrs Yu recoiled and screamed: You stink! Get a bath! And clean up this awful mess! She slammed the door, swearing fiercely. Dragons would cower and hide. Oh, and the rent! Pay up! The assault had silenced Pan. For a young man, Pan…

I say to him “I thought you liked orange juice with the bits in it” and he says “No I like orange juice without the bits in it” and as it’s only been 45 minutes since he told me he bumped into Kate last night and she looked “pretty sexy…like some kind of, you know, hostess”, I take his glass of orange juice (with the bits in it) and I throw it across the room so it hits the corner of his wooden bed frame and smashes across the floor. I’m glad the little pieces of glass fly in all kinds of directions so I can only hope that he tramples on a chunk. I leave his stupid shared house, full of arrogant pigs, and I storm home to think about what I can do next.

I sit on my bed to gather my furious thoughts and then I hear an annoying, high pitched, buzzing sound coming from my dvd player. I consider throwing it out the window but it’s too heavy and I don’t want to make a mess. I pull the plug out and in a state of exaggerated rage I carry it to a charity shop. The sweaty and slightly overweight guy in the charity shop says “Thanks for your donation” and I go home, change my bed sheets and feel much better for 3 minutes. Then I think about smashing up everything in my kitchen but again, I don’t want to make a mess.

I think about running away but I can’t find the right shoes. I take my phone and I scream to him, at the top of my text message voice, “I WISH I’D NEVER MET YOU!” and he doesn’t even flinch. I decide I’m not going outside for at least a week and I don’t have the right shoes anyway. I look at my wonderful television and my television says to me “Stay here with me and I’ll make you feel better”. I say to my television “But I love him” and my television says to me “I know. But you can love me now and you don’t even have to brush your hair”.

 

*

I’m seated at a table next to a loud, cocky music journalist who says he’s just finished working with Kayne West and I laugh but he says he’s serious and I laugh again. He says he likes my purse and then I let him buy me a couple of drinks. He keeps looking at me and talking to me as if he wants to sleep with me and the more he tells me about how much he doesn’t get on with his family, the more I think I may as well. Then, I don’t know why, perhaps it’s because we’re at a wedding, but I spend a few (quite painful) minutes telling him the story of when I was 8 years old and I brought my favourite Barbie into school for Show and Tell. I say, “So I told the class that I’d dressed her in yellow… because I was happy my dad was coming home for the weekend and then afterwards the boys teased me for bringing a doll to school! Anyway I was so confused so I said to this one boy, his name was Thomas, I said ‘Thomas! Why don’t you love me?’ which I know is a bit crazy but I was only a kid but you know what he did? That little bastard started crying… uncontrollably and he was shouting that I was weird and I couldn’t believe it so I put my lunchbox down, I remember it was a Nellie the Elephant one, and I pushed him over in the middle of that playground and you know what I said? I said to him ‘NEVER hold my hand OR GEMMA’S HAND ever again’ Gemma was nice and everything but I remember I was fed up of her getting all the boys all the time”. The music journalist looks at me like I’m mad and then there’s the bride’s speech, the groom’s speech, the best man’s speech and the father of the bride’s speech and everyone claps. And then the music journalist looks at me like he doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore and I’m glad because I think he’s awful really and I don’t want to sleep with someone who’s awful because in the end I don’t want to marry someone I think is awful.

Yet when I’m home I write a letter to my Pill and I say to my Pill “Make me beautiful!” and my Pill writes back (taking the key points) “I can’t make you beautiful. I can only try to stop those boys from impregnating you”. I think it’s typical of my Pill to say this. It expects me to take it at the same time every day but in return it can’t 100% promise anything and I find this very frustrating. If I can’t trust my Pill then who can I trust?

*

I’ve been here before and the doctor says to me “Is there a chance you’re pregnant?” I say “Well yes, there’s always a chance isn’t there?” and the doctor says “Sorry? Do you think you may be pregnant?” I say “No. I haven’t had sex in a long time” and the doctor’s computer asks me if I’m okay and if I want a hug and I tell the computer that I’m okay. The doctor looks at me as if I’m supposed to tell him about my whole life in eleven minutes.

I am a young teacher and writer. Aimed at young modern women, you can read my short stories and essays etc. at:

http://desperwrite.weebly.com

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