Short Fiction

Ward Webb is the author of numerous short stories and novellas. Originally from NC, he currently lives in NYC. When he is not reading, he is writing -- and when he is not writing, he will most likely be dead. Please do not send flowers.

It's time to close the coffin lid over his reprobate cousin, but will doing so open up memories that still turn Linc's stomach?

He was a homeless man of little means; no where to go, no friend to talk to or give him comfort -- save one... the best one...

That lying, drunken, irresponsible crook -- wouldn't you think that instead of weeping, the family would be saying, "Good riddance"?

He wasn't seeking fame or fortune, but he hoped that how he lived his life would stand up to his reflection in the eyes of his son ...

Death, the great equalizer -- only Linc hasn't the faintest desire to be equal to his hell-bound cousin ...

Love, they say conquers all. It is no respecter of persons, even those with super powers. It seems that a broken heart may be more dangerous than kryptonite ...

When the world ends, it won't be because of war or natural disaster. It will be because of one hapless stoner, just looking to get his next high.

Inexorable, inescapable, every fear that hides in the recesses of the mind ... one look around the corner away ...

No one can know what the future holds, though we can make some educated guesses. And the past ... that's out of our reach as well ...

Wow, someone got a hookah under the tree...

The Spirit of Christmas is found in the heart, and in a helping hand ...

When you have a large and convoluted family, maybe discretion is also the better part of interaction ...

Well, sure, they're built with taxpayer money, but who is it that really owns the road?

Here's a little something to think about when you're doing your Black Friday shopping ...

They were brought together to make the tough calls, to figure out the difficult solutions. It was their job. And when the job was done, they were paid according to their worth ...

The occasion was special, the drink delicious, the fire so welcoming ... but there was a stranger there, too, and something about him was frightening ...

The answer lies below in the darkness, pulsing with power and a grotesque secret. The only light Jack can take with him is the one he's seen all his life ...

A trickle of memories is the only help that Jack has, but it's not enough. Somewhere there have to be more ...

An eye for an eye, the old law goes. Is it Justice being served, or that Revenge is tasting so sweet? Suddenly both half-blind, what does each side now see?

No matter what weapons are being used, isn't it true that Love conquers all?

All his life Jack has seen this particular vision, glowing, steadily getting closer ...

Traveling light is almost always best, especially when the baggage is your own culture ...

Sonny's dead, and he can accept that now. It's time for Cave Man to escort him around while he takes care of the last pieces of business ...

An Aser story. Headed North towards Centaur Country, Aser finds that her companions still wonder what she was up to before their journey began ...

When your time has come, and the Grim Reaper is hanging around your door, it's good to have a brother by your side ...

Have you ever had one of these shopping experiences? Wait -- the Christmas shopping season is just around the corner ...

Death is in the air, in the great city above the clouds. But how will the enemy come to destroy it? And who is the real enemy, after all?

The future is unknown. But if you did know what the future would hold, would you have the heart to continue in the present?

Daniel Davis was born and raised in Central Illinois. His work has appeared in various online and print journals. You can find him at <a href="http://www.dumpsterchickenmusic.blogspot.com">Dumpster Chicken Music</a>.