Archive for Original Fiction – Page 2

Like A Bird

“It looks like a video compilation of epic fails.” “It’s not that–” “No, seriously, dude, it’s like something out of a 80s kids’ movie. There’s no way it’s flying.” Michael shook his head, bemused. His friend’s insults didn’t bother him. He’d been saying the same thing for weeks. “Does that…

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The Green Nymph

The nymph returns. I see her bare, dirt-smeared feet as she flits away. Her eyes peer at me through the bushes. They are wild, fiery eyes. My work calls, but I think to catch her, moving slowly, tentatively. She runs, howling with laughter, her lanky form slipping through some crack…

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Don’t Cry

She was weeping, and he could not bear her weeping. Royal Advisor Antony Sculton loved the Queen dearly, having sacrificed decades in raising and training and guiding her. Nothing–not his grey hairs or failing body or lonely existence–made him feel as helpless as when the Queen cried. He stood just…

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Today

Today I woke at 6 am. I didn’t want to. My alarm went off and I hated it with the wrath of a thousand suns. But I woke. Today I ate off-brand Lucky Charms. There were not enough marshmallows. Today I drove to work. My car was nearly out of…

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Front Porches

Robert shuffled onto the front porch, pulling the wooden door shut with an ancient creak. Patches of the floor boards were still painted, having survived another winter of freeze and melt. His chair, as weathered as the porch, he had brought out that morning, one item of a very short…

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Inventory of a Winter Thaw

Bed: sheets (disarray), cover like an empty shell (two blankets from the closet layered within), pillow (hair-stained), nightstand. Nightstand: alarm clock (off), tissue box (empty), cup (empty, dried residue), thermometer, trashcan (filled: wadded tissue (mucus-encrusted)). Trashcan original location: bathroom. Bathroom: toothbrush (dry from lack of use), shower (dry from lack…

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Count to Twenty

When she was a baby, I could just cover her eyes with my hands and then take them away. Peek-a-boo! It astonished her. I disappeared and then reappeared. Magic. When I first taught her to play hide-and-seek, she would hide under the desk. And then, before I had finished counting,…

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The Madness of Franz Agapa

In my continuing effort to put online short stories from “The Archive,” I present today “The Madness of Franz Agapa.” This story is a spin-off, of sorts, from “The All-Seeing Prophet of Fortune and Love” and exists in the same world as “The King’s Shield.” Pierre Agapa is a adventurer/treasure…

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Stark Rakin’ Mad

Mr. Willis Montgomery ate his breakfast slowly. It was Saturday. The end of the week had come. He had no more excuses. It was time to rake the yard. Mr. Montgomery despised raking. He hated the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet. It was like listening to someone chew…

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Open At The New Year

Dear Future Self, If you’re reading this, you’ve made it through another year. Congratulations! If you’re not reading this, you’re probably dead. Sorry about that. It’s January, and if you’re anything like me (and I’m betting you are), you’re feeling pensive. It’s dark and it’s cold and most mornings you…

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The Heidelberg/Smolinske Reunion

The dimly lit gymnasium/bingo hall of St. Mary’s Catholic School squeaked with shuffled strides and rubber wheels as the members of the Heidelberg/Smolinske family gathered for their annual Christmas reunion. Great Aunt Mabel had died in August, fifteen years after her husband, nearly to the day (wasn’t that always how…

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The House of Memories

Today’s story from the archives is “The House of Memories.” For some reason, back when I scheduled the release of these stories, I put this one here the week before Christmas, despite it being not remotely festive. It is, if anything, a tale suited more for Halloween than Christmas. It…

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