Posts Tagged "short fiction"

A Revolution of One

by on Feb 3, 2015 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

1400 WORDS I protected our country while you were sleeping. You voted every week on who should win American Idol, frantically trying to insure that your favorite candidate would go on to the next round—yet you couldn’t be bothered to go to the polling booth every few years to cast a similar vote for who should represent you in the House and the Senate. You knew the name of your favorite reality show contestant. You knew how old they were and where they’d gone to school and what things they liked—and more importantly, disliked. You followed them on Twitter and liked them on Facebook and were friends with them on every other social networking website, but you didn’t know...

Read More

The Best Little Cleaning Robot in All of Faerie

by on Feb 3, 2015 in Short Fiction | 3 comments

4700 WORDS When everybody on the bridge of the interstellar mercenary cruiser Zinnia fell into a magic sleep, I was busy using my scrubber attachments to attack the usual stains under the captain’s chair. There was a sudden series of thuds, and I noticed that everyone had either slumped over in their chairs or fallen to the floor. At that moment the doors opened and about fifty tiny, filthy, hairy, gross little things streamed out, shrieking in some language I didn’t know. They started bashing in the consoles, whacking unconscious crew members upside the head with oversize clubs, and getting grit everywhere. “Hey,” I said, boosting upwards on a cushion of very clean...

Read More

Inhale

by on Feb 3, 2015 in Blog | 0 comments

950 WORDS Our destination is mundane and so tranquil. Maybe that’s why we’ve stopped here; it’s the product of an uninspired journey. The air is still and the sun is waiting, and at a spot midway between a limb and the earth, a half–fallen leaf comes to a decision. Nothing moves. It’s at this instant that we know we’ve been found lacking. A quiet moment alone with ourselves tells us who we are. Perhaps it’s the whole point of the waiting. Neighbor eyes neighbor, each as helpless as the other. We deserve another chance, don’t we? The other guy thinks so too, but he can’t answer. Cold silence, snowflake–perfect. We could hear our own hearts if they were still beating....

Read More

Foreknowledge

by on Feb 3, 2015 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

4100 WORDS I stare out over my pregnant belly, feeling awkward. Feeling irritable. “Why wouldn’t I want to know?” “Some parents don’t want to know,” Dr. Anders says. “And we respect that.” “It’s right there on your clipboard, right?” I point to the clipboard, and he holds it infinitesimally closer to his chest. As if he’s hiding the results from me. “Yes,” Dr. Anders says. “Both the sex and cause of death of your unborn child are right here.” “Isn’t it kind of artificial then?” I ask. “I mean, you and all the nurses will just keep looking at that clipboard every week when we come in. So, you’d have to purposely conceal it from us.” “Yes,” Dr. Anders says. “But we’re...

Read More

Heirloom Pieces

by on Feb 3, 2015 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

4600 WORDS Catering was potluck. Potluck, for God’s sake. Catriona forced a smile as the neighbours streamed into her living room, all plump and tanned and healthy, not a scar among them. They carried platters and casseroles and cheap plastic plates, the flimsy circles all gaudy crimson or green—probably discounted post–Christmas stock from Costco, she thought, cringing. Cling wrap was whipped off, cellophane crinkled into handbags or pockets, and the offerings laid out, higgledy–piggledy, on her late grandmother’s antique dining table. Fat two–litre soft drinks were plunked on the sideboard, rattling the crystal glasses Cat had rented for the occasion. Bottles of red,...

Read More