Fiction
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The Empty Crib at the End of the World
by Beth Cato
The problem was making the walk all the way south through terrain infested by aliens and rogues, with a long stretch that was sparsely inhabited. Maybe, with the weather warming, it would be possible.
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Copperheads
by Catherine Brown
They get curious, come closer, just close enough. How about it, when them snakes is born they already got their own bait to hunt with.
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Behind Blue Eyes
by Sharon Kae Reamer
Don’t you see, it’s all I have left and it’s what I do best, my livelihood and my curse.
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The Parts of Justice
by Gavin Hughes
William’s eyes closed once more as he wished for an end, spittle ran from his mouth and sweat dripped to the ground below his head.
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Giant Killer
by Howie Good
Maybe it’s the drugs everyone took in college, or the years of road rage since then, but people just step around him, pretending he isn’t lying there huge and helpless.
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The Never Fair
by Kenneth Schneyer
It was as if everything she had ever seen, all the glories that once surrounded her and now were lost, had returned in a grand parade to welcome her, or to take one final bow.
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Dream Spinner
by Robert E. Keller
My memory was slipping, and I spent my days sitting in my rocking chair struggling to recall the past, while Geldra took care of me.
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Whipped
by Paul Ingrassia
“I’ve dreamt of this moment, planned it, wished for it,” he said. His hands began to quiver faster.
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Monsters
by Stephen Graham Jones
When you’re twelve, your superstitions are pure like they’ll never be again, I’m pretty sure.
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The Strawman and a Murder
by Jeff Menapace
The birds simply looked down from the wide straw shoulders, black eyes blinking, observing, monitoring, approving — teachers watching kids play at recess.
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Rocky Road and a Dead End
by David Flint
and the zombies are coming closer and you swear they have doubled in number and there is nothing you can do now and the Rocky Road is dripping down onto the floor
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Cemetery Pet
by Marge Simon
Such wondrous eyes, she thought. Almost like it knew what she was saying.
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A Night With Grimes
by Bret Jordan
I know the filthy old man was a pain in the ass, but that isn’t any reason to make jokes, not this soon after he died.
