Short Fiction and Poetry

It was 7 p.m. I was tired and sweaty from a long workday and wanted to go home. But instead, I waited in an uncomfortable hospital [..]

30 minutes. It was quiet. My palms were starting to sweat and now the pounding in my chest traveled to my ears [...]

In sixth grade, the first year of middle school, our Physical Education teacher was Coach Stogie. He really was shaped like a stubby [...]

“Michelle, they are waiting,” a familiar voice drifted into her consciousness. Michelle, a young woman [...}

The night was defined by a pouring rain and it was as dark as could be, and the woman walking down the street didn’t know anyone [...]

My face stares back at me from my reflection--a white face with searching eyes endowed with a mass of curly waves. [...]

While this being has existed for centuries, taking on various forms and saving countless civilizations [...]

The snow covered the tyre tracks. The snow cleaned the blood from the tyres, from the sickly yellow headlights of the car [...]

Clive chomped away at the soggy marsh grass, water dripping out of his mouth and down his long neck. He put his head down again [...]

The first night I stood watching her house, there was drizzle. Under a wide-leaved fig tree, a foots-breadth away [...]

I paddled the canoe out into the lake, trying to find the exact locations where my father taught me to fish. It seemed impossible [...]

Outside, the moon has taken to blue. So, too, have the windows, the doors, the oaks, the eiderdown, and the vaporous air [...]

“TREE when you're tall, now reach up high,” the librarian calls out, jumping up in his sandals just a little bit [...]

“Honey, our son is not in his room.” I stare back at my wife in her cute pink pyjamas and ruffled hair, looking all beautiful [...]

A telegram arrived stating my cousin, Virginia, was dead. Be on the 8:00 p.m. train to Wichita. Marshall Adams would meet me [...]

The Appalachian Trail ran 71 miles through the Great Smoky Mountains. After trekking the first mile, the Huxley family stopped [...]

Before the cockerel’s dawn call, Adeen counted ten blind steps, found the gate post with an outstretched hand, and turned right [...]

I watch a woman bend over double. She buries her head in the lowest drawer, her rear cresting over her shoulders. She thumps the wood [...]

There is nothing quite like hurling yourself into a mass of people who are knowingly about to push back. Everyone is running in circles[...]

“Rules are meant to be broken.” I should have put up more of an argument when Calder suggested we ignore the signs. [...]