Short Fiction

Looking for Mr. Right -- or should we say Mr. Night? Dress your best and accentuate those fangs!

We all start out in the dark, barely able to look around and see what we've got stored in there...

It didn't matter that Skip didn't want to believe ... he was a man who had no choice in the event.

Living can be hard work even at the best of times, but a time comes when the effort of staying alive makes one long for retirement ...

You think you're asleep, but you're not. You think you're dead, but you're not. You think you can escape, but ...

That cold and creepy voice you hear bouncing off the canyon walls? It's yours...

Yes, that is.

The Great Bear is all about justice -- but not so much on "learning curves."

Love doesn't just show up and suddenly everything is Happily Ever After. There's always one more quest, one more question, one more challenge ... does that mean that in the end, Love isn't worth it?

Let's take some time for culture. This way to the Museum of Muscle and Money...

Having paid Charon his price for crossing the River Styx, Jordan must now find Eliot -- in all the dark nothingness of Hades ...

Now was the time when a grandmother's ghost should have whispered that air circulation is important, along with the paper bags ... but who listens to grandmothers any more, whether it's about green tomatoes -- or money?

A wish has been granted, but as with all wishes made in rage, things have gone horribly wrong.

They say that if you don't dream, you go crazy. And yet here's a case where you dream and you think you're going crazy. Is it a lose-lose scenario, or a win-win? Or just crazy-crazy?

Kate Alexander-Kirk drinks copious amounts of tea as she dreams up weird and wonderful stories that she one day hopes to realize. And she does it all donning her Top-Hat at a jaunty angle. Most recently her work has appeared in Spry Literary Journal, Visceral Uterus and Boy Slut.

Pale is a city of everlasting rain, a city of tragedy, a city groaning under the weight of its own curse. Jordan Mars is about to find yet another level of pain paving Pale's streets.

Who is that clever, handsome, rich -- and don't forget HOTT chappie over there? Yes, that one -- the one watching himself in the reflections of the window...

And there's a penalty for calling in an order by using your phone as a phone ...

There is a life, and a way of life, that few understand -- but for those few, the horizon is endless, and the present full of riches ...

Maybe Norm should factor in the cost of fleeing the country as well ...

The trick is to know when enough is enough -- and then have the sense to stop...

There wasn't so much wrong with Annie -- she was just a little different ... maybe she was a bit smarter than most, and could find her own solutions ...

Does it mean that we don't have to bother trying to go to work any more? The date is coming up in less than two weeks, so there's just enough time to empty the savings and visit the Caribbean, right? Or should you invest your capital and prepare to sell garments that say, "The End of the World Came and All I Got Was this Dopey T-shirt"?

No matter how many hours you've spent chatting, emailing, posting ... there is one point that looms terrifyingly in the future ...

Heaven is full of joy, Hell is full of the opposite, but what do you call it when you feel nothing?

It was about this time of year that Uncle Edgar stopped by with one of the stories that led to the publication of "The Memoirs of Edgar McCassar." Maybe Edgar was prone to the sampling of his father's still as a child ...

Even though you know it's coming, nothing can prepare you for that sudden great loss ...

An atheist will tell you that there isn't any such thing as "Pearly Gates" -- so why be wary of what's on the other side of any door?

Five different stories, one constant in all of them -- a mystery that begs to be solved ... will the memories come clear enough for justice to be served?

The economy is iffy, and people have forgotten that there is only so much money to go around. Maybe it is high time we all looked at our gardens differently...