Miquel stood on the steps of Saint Sebastian’s pushing vials of ‘god’. He held a baggie up in front of his two customers, Bible Boys from one of the havens on the surrounding hills. They had pulled up in a red sports sedan that probably belonged to one of their daddies.
Ask any schoolchild who the first victim of the Besynian Revolution was and they'll say Cube Atticus. Because that's what the history books tell us; that's what Cube Atticus' grave marker says: First to Fall for Freedom. And it's true in the sense that all sophistry is true. As with all stories, it depends on who's doing the telling.
by Calie Voorhis - Seems to me some days I should dust the dirt off these battered boots, put on my finest blue dress, and skip down the Way...
by K. Eisert - Senator Heidi Montoya studied the man clad in an orange jumpsuit and shackled to a chair. A guard lifted the black bag from his head.
by Walter Dinjos - There is a reason the mirrors kiss the walls. When my late wife nailed the oakwood-framed one next to my bathroom, she called it a reminder of how far we've come.
by Katie Boyer - She flexes her toes in new high-heeled shoes, feels the press of Earth gravity on her body for one last day, discomfort in the balls of her feet.
by Ken Hoover - On the mesa’s flat expanse, the mine shaft was a crude hole, a soulless eye. As Vallen Doss peered into it, a dank sulfuric breath wafted from the opening.
by Clay Space - The wind on the frozen ice bit through the hides he wore for protection, but he had long ago learned to forget about the bitter cold.
By Jude-Marie Green One rocket lumbers along to the launchpad. Earth-bound and clumsy now, gorgeous with potential. It’s yours. You’re the last. You should be proud of that.
by Sean Monaghan Gemma felt the pain right away. She sighed, stretching, angling her limbs and hips, trying to find a more comfortable position. She blinked, looking at the Arhend side table strewn with folders.