Short Fiction

Looking back, it could have gone either way. It didn’t work out, which makes it look like fate, or a stupid decision, or both. But at the time, I did have a few things in my favor. I have the boy next door charm that candisarm a girl in seconds. I have a friendly smile

The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting

Reporters are trained to develop a sixth sense, a nose for when a story smells fishy. And something about this one wasn’t right. First of all, Tom Sutherford’s wife Rosa was missing, but all of her belongings were where she left them. She didn’t take any money out of their bank account. Her car was

The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter came shadows. Long nights. Endless journeys through the long, dark halls of my mind. I stared out of my solitary window facing the barren orchard. The few leaves left on the trees whispered and

“How did you know?” I ask, not sure I want the answer. I thought I had been careful. I thought Minnie felt only my feigned support and cheerfulness. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just a feeling.” Blurred asphalt and weeds fill my eyes. A dilapidated farm house in the distance. The road is eerily free

I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time, that’s fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I homesick for places I’ve never been. Places like Malaysia or Thailand or South Africa. I want to be

Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay in this dream world where she felt warm as if wrapped in a soft fleece blanket. and somehow she was floating in space, suspended by silken strings that

At first, we thought the black liquid was oil, that we’d struck it rich and that we’d be able to retire and live in leisure. We actually started writing down all the way we’d spend the money. Our first choice was to use the money to build a McMansion and book a European cruise through