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Short Story

The Do Over

…last mortal act was murder. 

Now, prowling the dark places, she wonders about karma and redemption. And what a really good pastrami sandwich would taste like. 

She was standing where she always stood on the platform, well away from the crowded spots by the stairs and turnstiles, reading. Let the rest of the cattle shove themselves into the middle cars. Even when she didn’t get a seat, she at least had some breathing room by coming down here to the end of the platform. 

Sometimes she gazed idly at the steps that led down into the tunnel and wondered about…


By Remington Write

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I lost a mango but found a DREAM

A story of how childhood misfortune situation propelled one to chase a bigger dream.

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…ripe one! Hit the ripe one! exclaimed the stubborn adventurous voice in me. Coupled with my hunger on a hot Saturday afternoon, as my patchy dried lips could no longer be greased by my saliva, and my barefooted wandering about had yielded no result. I sighted this beautiful ripe mango, defying gravity as it hanged on the biggest tree that gave shade to passersby and family or friends who waited fervently for visiting hours to enter in to the Suleimana memorial…

By Hamza Ayub

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The Mind of Layla

Layla never really believed in UFOs. She has a rude awaking and so the the Aliens who are in her bathroom!

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…the hell is up and talking loud enough to wake her up. Layla open her eyes and raised up on her arms. She couldn’t believe it. Standing in the doorway of her bathroom, was a short grey alien like you see on television. She felt something try to push into her mind, but the alien couldn’t do it. Layla reached for her gun that she kept under the pillow she didn’t sleep on. Relief went through her as her hand grasped the gun. She felt a harder push and raised the gun, shooting the alien in the head. The alien fell to the floor. A tall darker grey colored alien stepped into her view. Layla watched as the tall alien turned his head sending power towards her. She shot him before the power tried to push into her mind. It stopped as soon as the darker alien joined the other alien on the…

By Hope Strong

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Unexamined Rituals

Written for Burning Man 2017 on the theme Radical Ritual

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…first time Joey crossed himself at the threshold of the church was because he saw Auntie Sue doing it. She did it smooth and ladylike so Joey felt a little self-conscious but he saw other guys, grown men, doing it and that was enough for him. When his older sister, Marie, came along with them (which wasn’t very often) though, she didn’t do it. Marie didn’t do most of the stuff that people around here did. Joey and Marie, they weren’t from around here except now they were because Daddy…

By Remington Write

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The Robot’s Stew

…cleans and cooks for the woman and the cat. When it is not doing its job, it was on 'rest' mode. It never sees the woman, just the cat. 

It was always nice to the cat. It was programmed to do the task at hand. A list of chores to do in the same order in the same way every single day. That never bothered it. Nothing should be able to bother it. 

The cat was its only problem. The cat was always watching it. 

Every time it had to clean the litter box the cat would attack. The cat…

By Cristina Collazo

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The Stop

What happens when the oppressed stop playing by the rules

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…saw him in passing. Just another car, another citizen driving, unremarkable in all aspects except one. He hit the wailer and took off down the road after him. His was heart beating fast and his adrenaline was coursing through his blood, amping his attitude and getting him ready to meet the enemy. He called it in over the radio keeping the specifics to a minimum as there was no real reason to approach as of yet. Thankfully he was given the latitude to stop and detain anyone he deemed…

By Isa Pulley

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Island of the Giant

…storm had just exploded outside.

My thoughts started spinning inside my head ...... and I began to remember ..........

A piece of land in the middle of the sea! Who would have known that it was hiding a great mystery and the greatest of treasures that human eyes have seen?

First, before I continue, my name is Malay. That was the name they gave me when I was four years old.

To this story should not be removed or added a period or a comma.

I'm going to tell you how it happened more than fifty years ago. Although prudence tells me…

By Ann A. Guerra

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Mouthful of Stones

We can only hold those stones for so long.

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…hate it when that fat spic runs the vacuum cleaner right outside of my room first thing every morning.” Mr. Bluebird is, hands down, the most annoying ‘guest’ in this sad excuse for a hotel. “Can’t she jest say no to the Mickey D’s? Hell, I can’t hardly get past her in the hallway.”

Marjean’s enjoying the breeze coming in the front door; smells a little like rain. There’s some good, old Motown playing on the radio and she’s got a cup of Brenda’s coffee. Be nice if that new one…

By Remington Write

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The Marijuana Mafia

My Life: Reimagined

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PART I

…see there are some things that you must understand about me. Not that you must understand but I'm going to tell you anyway. Some things I'm going to tell you about happened to me and then there are some things that happened to me in just the way that I remember they happened to me. Because my memory isn't all that good, to begin with, and that's before I got sick. 


So sometimes the story is in order and sometimes it's out of order and the reason is... I'm like a storytelling carousel. Remember the carousel at…

By RayFed

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Ashes of A Fleeing Life

This short story was inspired by the work Junji Ito, a Japanese author who relishes the freedom of horror stories that thrive on not answering every question the reader might have.

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…had been a week since Max’s funeral. His family had chosen not to have a casket. Our guess was there hadn’t been enough left of him to put in one after the accident. Instead, his grandmother had him cremated and put his ashes on display. I remember noticing the box then. I’d only ever seen urns used for ashes, and a box didn’t seem like it would hold them…

By Nick McCusker

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