Stories from
September, 2011

Fear breathes in the light shining under the door, in the shadow that crosses it, in the sound of a doorknob turning.

Paul LaTour, a freelance writer in Chicago, would title this story “A Father’s Love,” but that would be cheating.

A balcony crowded by dead leaves. The young boy kisses his mum good bye. She smiles sarcastically, then leaps.

Jack Jones tells lies in England.

His GPS told him the town where his birth-parents lived was two hours away. It couldn’t be right. It had taken him fifteen years so far.

Simon Kewin employs an infinite number of monkeys to write stories for him. It’s easier that way.

So much pain, so much death. So much metal upon him. Ironheart could not be a man, she swore, but an automaton. Until he lifted his helm.

Sean Vivier works at a Sudbury school and as a line dance instructor.

My prnts dnt ndrstnd m:(

Iain Maloney (@iainmaloney) is listening to Mudhoney.

So he’s married now. I shouldn’t be surprised but god, the world fell away when I saw the ring. He was so kind when I tried to kiss him.

Harry Saddler has written SMS stories since 2008 and recently started posting edited versions at @MondayStory.

One mouse click. £10m. He was suddenly crushed by the weight of the secret that he now carried. He couldn’t even try to give the money back.

Phil Oddy lives near Cambridge, UK, and has never stolen £10m. Honest.

The baby had its mother’s eyes. In return for obedience, it promised to give them back.

James Hutchings mostly writes fantasy.

The celestial garden should grow everything. Try as she might, Jin couldn’t get the bean from her favorite French press coffee to sprout.

C.E. Hyun is a law student. She twitters @ce_hyun and websites @www.cehyun.com.

She watched the sunlight dance across her wall. “Beautiful,” she thought as she stood to wash last night’s makeup from her face.

Hayley Whitworth is just a busy mom who loves these tiny pieces of fiction.