Kat sleeps with the data. Old school, USB, under the Mouse pillow. Caught the methane release in real time, live, last night, by chance. Was messing around in her former company’s servers, suspecting they had an imperceptible delay on a few key sensors. Less than a second, […]
A flipped boat, he clings to the metal bench seat slick with mossy water, his feet spasming in the unknown depths below him. Because at sixteen, there’s something fucked up about not knowing how to float or tread water. He had skipped swimming lessons because he couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t know how
Each Death Gets Us Closer Read More »
I carve deep grooves into the face before me, loose sand falling to the ground in small red piles. The eyes stare back at me with conspicuous intent, concentrating as I do on the task at hand. I do not know why my touch forms the sand as it does, why it holds shape against
V isha screwed the silencer onto her Glock-19 and rested its tip on the SUV’s steering wheel. She aimed past the windshield and fixed her sights on Igor’s forehead. Visha wore all black: her lean jumpsuit, boots, gloves, and a scarf that concealed a shock of blond hair. Everything was black. Igor would never spot
I hugged you, and I hugged you again before you stepped out that door. Did I warn enough about the monsters? I didn’t want to make you worry. Maybe I should have. But now you’re gone. Out in the wild world, armed with nothing but laptop and laundry bag, books, and posters. With nothing to
Mother, Shift, Mother Read More »
I magine Genesis, order from disorder. I sat on the sun-warmed tarmac with seventeen other female prisoners waiting to board a transport named Eagle of Peace. Ironic name for a sinister-looking vessel, which reminded me of something cobbled together by a mad scientist using mismatched nuts and bolts. But the
Imagine Dandelions Read More »
You’ve written your flash fiction or short story and are ready to hit submit—wait! You churn out title after title but cast each aside as worse than the last. That’s when you realize you’re stuck on the dreaded title treadmill. None of your selections fit your story. What do you do? Do you use a
Get OFF the Title Treadmill: 3 Simple Tactics for Flash Fiction & Short Story Submitters Read More »
Y ou do this man, we crew, yeah?” I nod, but it’s lost in the shake that has taken hold of me. I try to speak, but the drum and bass beat of the car radio batters my heart into a rhythm. I grip the steering, feeling my knuckles blanch. “We
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