Home Fiction - Year VII - Number 53 - January 2022

Fiction - Year VII - Number 53 - January 2022

    THIS JOURNEY CALLED LIFE by Kenneth Bastian

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                “Good afternoon,” Daddy Hooks, said Mark; Hooks opened the door to let him inside. Hooks was Mark’s mentor, since the two met in the military. Hooks was 20 years older than Mark. The...

    UNFORTUNATE TIMINGS by Dylan Price

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                I hummed to the tune of a song stuck in my head that I just couldn’t remember while preparing for the party.             “Jess, can you come here for a second,” said my mom....

    BLUISH FINGERS by Milena Galdino

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    On that night, when Juruna was on his hammock, he read the starts in a different way. Natives in South America have this obsession over the sky and the stars for they are divine....

    A CLEAN SLATE by Michael Bryan

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    A Clean Slate With his washer at home broken, Rafe decided to do all his laundry at the same time at the Water Whirled laundromat. Rafe Reached into his pocket and felt the tiny ridges...

    PROOF THE BOY HAD LIVED by Mike McLaughlin

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    Stephen Havilland could have avoided the war. At twenty-eight he was already a successful man. His newly minted firm was growing, slowly but steadily. Likewise for his reputation in business and government circles. This...

    THE PURPLE FLYING ELEPHANT by Joram Piatigorsky

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    Charlie, a shoe salesman, jumped out of bed, startled that it was already 8:30. His United Airlines Flight was scheduled for 10:22. Now he didn’t even have time for breakfast. He had set the...

    ERASING by Deirdre Fryer Baird

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    I have no idea why I’m here. I see my distorted reflection in the shiny chrome elevator doors, but I don’t look like myself. I know I came here for a reason; I just...

    A REVENGE STORY by Aaron Pickel

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    A REVENGE STORY by Aaron Pickle Paws was the owner of a speakeasy on Lexington. During this time, it was illegal for Kitties to drink any alcoholic beverage. This outraged Paws. Growing up, selling alcohol...

    GULF by Elyse Forbes

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    It had all started with the little pink heart. The pink pixelated heart, bequeathed by a virtual stranger eighteen days after his daughter had died. And now he was here, four months later, pretending...

    THE GIFT by Nancy Lines

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    Sundays in the Russell household were usually quiet – relatively quiet, at least. There were no nurses or other hospice staff bustling about, taking Rob’s blood pressure, asking him how he feels, checking his...