Tag Archives: short fiction
The fiends, they know when you’re weak. It’s like blood in the water, like a slow limp in the jungle. The rules in Capedom are no different than that in the wild. Eat or be eaten, kill or be … Continue reading
The Tibots were strange, but as customers they were dependable. When Anwar’s father noticed their latest order—yet another jar of soil, this time from Tunisia–was unclaimed, he dispatched his son to deliver it. While it was unusual for for Mr. … Continue reading
They clash in complementary colors–superpeople–hero versus villain spandex versus leather, ideal versus the outside world. They clash, knuckles meeting flesh, bone crushing concrete, the surrounding air crackling, ionized with spite. They clash for the entire neighborhood to see, as if for … Continue reading
The monster under Timmy’s bed nibbles on toes; it feeds on nightmares. Limping, sore, feet scarred, Timmy shuffles into mother’s room, scissors shaking. The monster will eat well tonight
His new name: Adonis12. Another day, another profile, the keyboard sends his love. Kate always responds: 48 hours of flirting before the silent freeze. Like a chameleon without a palette, one day he’ll get it right. One day he’ll make her … Continue reading
I wake up to white windows and snow. Light and fluffy, it weighs heavy in bulk, sagging all shelter. The morning news: snow without a snowday, adulthood and its empty promises.