Stories

I never saw her again after that day. Not really. Life just got in the way. But it was a great party. Magical. Everyone loved our wedding.

James Patrick Focarile lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest.

The reason he called. He felt guilty about the fight you started.

Raymond Sloan lives in Ireland and writes.

She checked the numbers while he was upstairs. “Any luck?” Her heart skipped. They all matched. My god. “Nah. I do need to go out, though.”

@SimonKewin is the pseudonym used by an infinite number of monkeys who write from a secret location in the English countryside.

A prince walked in on his mother, the queen, with her lover. He said nothing. For love? No. He gained two allies that day.

Daniel Boyko is a writer.

He cried when his mother’s breaths ceased. His brother grasped his shoulder. Later, during their walk, they could only talk about vacations.

Daniel Addercouth comes from a long line of farmers.

And after a while of sitting there and listening to the rain outside my window, It said to me:

“This is the best way you’ll get to know me.”

Sasan Mahmoudi is a second-year internal medicine resident.

Presents unopened. Cake still whole in its box in the cupboard. Balloons already starting to sag.

Again, he looks out the front window.

Robert Keal hails from Kent but currently lives in London.

As he stole time from their marriage for his siblings, parents, bosses, it dawned on her. Being loved wasn’t the same as being chosen.

Wasila Q. is a hopeless romantic and overthinker.

All she wanted was to pause time, just once; and when that wish was granted she wanted to do it again.

Emma Wilson lives in Scotland where she researches, writes, and drinks lots of tea.

We had to pause between galaxies to hear the music of the stars.

It was dark, and we were alone, but oh, those songs.

Mari Ness writes stuff. Much of it short. Slightly longer examples can be found in her chapbook, Dancing in Silver Lands, from Neon Hemlock Press.