Stories

The tourist burned the photos once he learned he could never return home.

Paul Fallavollita writes from Greenville, South Carolina.

Every day like every other, he built the machine. The machine grew so large it could never work, and he stopped, satisfied.

Derek Dexheimer has a writing and photography blog.

He asked her, “Would you marry me?”
She said, “No, but I’ll take you home.”

N. J. Campbell wonders a lot.

Having saved him from shipwreck and sharks, she basked there, pondering the purpose of his toes, before she woke from such strange dreams.

Ben Adams is a Hoosier who lives on the island of Maui.

First the money ran out. Then she did. Then he quit drinking—he no longer had either the means or the motivation. He wasn’t unhappy.

Daragh Beirne makes little creatures do stuff.

“Tomorrow we will get you some horseshoes,” said the man wiping his brow.

“But father,” said the boy, “I am not a horse, I am a bear.”

Will Wood is a vagabond.  He lives anywhere but Texas.

Wind blew the balloon from his hands, and the little boy liked that it was free to play.

Sometimes, his father said, it’s okay to feel sad.

Derek Dexheimer has a writing and photography blog.

The clockmaker forged a mechanical heart when his own withered. Arthritis now twists his fingers, and all the clocks begin to wind down.

Jennifer K. Oliver requires regular doses of speculative fiction.

All our stories are about people before the Bettering—people who hurt because they couldn’t help it. People who didn’t think hurt was fun.

R. Gatwood is concise.

They lived uneasily ever after. The evil stepmother had won the custody battle, and the dragon remained at large.

David Galef is the pen name of David Galef.