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Excerpts from the Diary of Lezlie Mcartney (Entry 1)


Sunday. 7/6/3025. Dear Diary,

It really sucks being me. No really it does. Today I fell off of the hover bus and landed with a smack right on my ass. 265 more words


Red dress, White Gloves.

I saw her reflection in the window of the Tobacconist.

She was crossing the street and heading for the restaurant at The Windsor Hotel.

You might be wondering how I knew where she was going. 2,059 more words

Flash Fiction

Sam Bennett's Case Files: The Day Off.

Not something you see too often; a handbag separated from its owner.

Tram stop number eighteen on 112 route. Bright sunny day and I’m on my way home. 1,291 more words

The Long Weekend


Near the end of winter, with spring too far off, Daddy would go out back and tap on the tank. It would sound as empty as my stomach. 23 more words

Flash Fiction

Short Fiction: "The Ferryman's Lament" by Michael Darrow

I’m not sure how much longer it will be until I snap. Sometimes, I just feel like I would burn this place down if I could. 829 more words


537. The wrong bunch

Don’t get me wrong: the Scrimshaw’s were not the richest family in town but they were reasonably comfortable. They made a mistake however: they mixed with the wrong bunch. 232 more words


211. Scenes from the Second Seat on the Right

Monday March 30th, 7:00pm
Drommen (and Miles)

Drommen sits at the window. Miles takes the seat beside him.

Miles: Hello.

Drommen: Hi.

Miles: Nice day. 65 more words

Short Stories