Stories

She told me once that she thought cars on a road sounded like the ocean. She always was the type to just dive in.

Katherine La Mantia hates tea and watches too much BBC.

The flow was lost in translation, but it didn’t matter. It was just another ransom note.

Helena Högestätt has previously been published on Nanoismer.

He leaves before she wakes. His last girlfriend blushed when they made love. Now the other beds seem cold.

Chuck Von Nordheim relies on the kindness of strangers in Dayton, Ohio.

A cloud covered the sky in breathtaking pace. Apocalypse? I started to run. A wind was rising. Raindrops fell when I entered the brothel.

Evert Asberg envies me, wants to be me or even thinks he’s me. Anyway, he sleeps with my wife.

Yes, she said to text her anytime.

No, she never told me she was the Secretary of State.

Steven D. Stark knows if he did or didn’t.

I love my mommy and daddy so much. The only time they make me upset is when, while playing, one of them begins to chant “low battery.”

D. Ahren Bell is a science teacher, science fiction writer, and father. Follow him on twitter @Specksinthevoid.

I don’t need a memory palace. One room, one green glass window, a pair of familiar hands, and a smile. It’s enough to live in.

Nghi Vo lives close to an inland sea.

Jane struggles with what to file, what to throw away. Sifting through her parents’ things, she thinks how much easier this is in the office.

Clare Kirwan lives near Liverpool and writes poems and fiction

The night my father died, he was having trouble breathing, terrified. I held his hand and told him I’d return in the morning. Here I am.

David Galef is a shameless eclectic who publishes in seventeen genres.

He was still on the ground in the morning. His jaw hurt. They were both gone; he was alone. He’d never been so proud of his son, though.

@EricBoydtweets still writes a lot for different things.