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Tag Archives: Short Story
Maria (part 3)
Daniel winced in pain as Beth Cambridge helped him into one of the odd chair-bench furniture pieces in front of a console. The bridge (Maria had been insistent that this must be the bridge/command deck/whatever) was now full of people looking … Continue reading
What Fits in a Vial
Djaro was one of the Alchemist’s apprentices, and he was by far the most curious. Each day, the students would gather beneath the walnut tree at the village edge, and wait for the Alchemist to come and fetch them. The … Continue reading
Skip
Andrew hadn’t been looking where he was going. Instead, he had been checking his phone. He had an important meeting later that day, and somebody had just txt’d him a slight change in venue. Same building, different room. It seemed … Continue reading
To Serve and Protect
Stop joking around! You can’t take pictures of them! It’s not a laughing matter. I know you’ve been out of the country for awhile but trust me. Photos, video, even voice recording will get you in trouble. They don’t fuck … Continue reading
I’m Here to See Wendy
“I’m here to see Wendy.” Sounds pretty innocent, doesn’t it? Shows what you know. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did, from a very early age. Somebody must have told me. Over at that combo gas station/taco … Continue reading
The Music
“Can you hear it!? Can’t you hear it!?” the old man would cry to anyone who crossed his path. He was a staple of the town, a part of the local flavor, a landmark even. Sure he scared some people, … Continue reading
Sarah
Sarah was running. Technically she was ‘running away,’ but there was no ‘away.’ Not really. Sarah had finally started to understand that. It had started after she’d seen that boy from school kill one of those dogs. She’d been up late … Continue reading
The Tale of Ayla, Part 7
It has been raining for several days now. It rains often on the coasts of the Sorrows. In the town, the streets are slow flowing rivers of mud, through which a pack of children play by the fading daylight. Splashing … Continue reading
Death on Sunday
Death and I play chess every Sunday. Not for my soul or extra time. It’s not like that. It’s just a friendly game. At 6 AM I gather my chess set, fill a thermos with coffee, and head to the … Continue reading
Slow
The man was slow. Not dim-witted; physically slow. He moved at a ponderous, deliberate pace which made performing any task quickly seem impossible. He was not old or fat or visibly ill, he simply moved as if this were the … Continue reading
Fred Hesser 