R.I.P. Ray Bradbury. August 22, 1920 – June 5, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Waiting On Hope
by T.M. Souders
She stepped to the ledge of the balcony, welcoming death—and the mercy it offered.
Three more steps and she would be free. One. Two.
The sudden bang on the door made Lexie jump. She stood, her toes curling over the cool, rough, concrete, only inches from the edge of descent.
Gripping the chair next to her, she tried to concentrate. She raised her arms straight out from her sides like an airplane. The morning air, cool on her skin, wrapped around her in a soft caress. She visualized the jump, the slap of wind on her face and in her hair. She didn’t flinch from the thought of the agony of impact, which may come before the blessed numbness. After all, she was no stranger to pain.
Opening her eyes, she glanced down at her feet. Without a railing, the unguarded slab of stone made for easy access to the waiting street below. She straightened her toes, no longer supported by the balcony.
The banging on the door persisted, making it hard for her to think. She tried to ignore the interruption, but the caller’s persistence made blocking out the sound impossible. Behind the pounding she heard a voice—one she recognized.
“Lexie, open up. Let me in. What the hell are you doing out there? You’re going to get yourself killed. Lex?” Sienna continued to call through the door.
Lexie glanced from the inside of her apartment back to the street below. Traffic loomed, along with the occasional pedestrian. She cursed Sienna for interfering. Why did she show up now?
All she needed was one more step, but the insistent banging outside her door thumped in the background of her mind, jarring the still thoughts of death from where they perched. She would have to wait.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Blood And Guitars
by Heather Jensen
I gazed back at him, his blue eyes blazing, and I had to resist the intense urge not to look away for the ridiculous fear that he’d see right through me. See the wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Then his lips were on mine and I lost myself, overwhelmed by the surge of Trey’s emotions as they flooded through me. I kissed him back wanting to forget my fear of being discovered, of putting him in danger, and focus only on how good it felt being in his arms. After all, relinquishing some control was a sacrifice worth making if it meant I could continue to live in this fantasy with Trey. But the dreaded tingling in my teeth started up again and I reluctantly pulled away. Trey closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, resting his forehead against mine. It was obvious he was trying to be patient with me.
“Trey, I…” I wanted to apologize but what could I say? I’m sorry but I’m afraid my fangs might freak you out. Oh, and by the way, my eyes sort of glow in the dark when I get excited. I hope you’re cool with that?
“It’s okay,” he breathed, resting his hand on mine over his heart. I wondered how long he would put up with me pulling away like this. It was selfish of me and dangerous for us both, but I wasn’t willing to give him up. I didn’t want to lose him, or the effect he had on my spirit. It was time to accept the truth. I was falling in love with Trey.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Twelve For 12
by Thomas Mackay King:
Twelve short stories that consider the darker side of life, murder,suicide,child abduction, no pink fluffy happy endings in here, well maybe one!
The perfect, precise, acute scalpel was on its way to penetrate my unsullied, unblemished, virginal skin, I erupted with one more silent scream, but my hell had commenced, the razor sharp surgical tool had sliced across my lower abdomen with barbarous efficiency, my nerves lay quiescent as the deep gouge opened my body to expose my infected innards.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Kidnapped at the Midnight Sun
by Lisa Hall Deckert
“Oh my God, Nali, this says that somebody has Tori,” Kara said. “What if they hurt her? What if they already hurt her? Oh my God, what if they kill her? What are we going to do?”
I felt just as panicky as Kara did, but I tried to act calm. “Take a breath, Kara. Coach Kim is on her way up. The note is for her.”
Kim arrived quickly. “What is this all about? Did I hear you say kidnapped?”
“Look, here is the note,” I said. “Wait, don’t touch it!”
It was too late. Kim had already picked up the paper.
We have VicTorIA.
No Police and she won’T
be harmed. Tell no One.
InSTRUCTionS to FOllOw.
Monday, May 21, 2012
What the Dog Ate
by Jackie Bouchard
The vet handed Maggie Baxter a plastic specimen bag containing a pair of size-tiny, lavender thong panties extracted from her dog; but they were not hers. Or rather, they were hers now since she’d just paid $734 to have Dr. Carter surgically remove them from Kona’s gut.
She’d come home late the previous night from a three-day conference. When she crawled into bed, Dave had muttered hello, but was snoring again within the minute.
Then, this morning, she’d awakened to the muted foghorn sounds of Kona heaving. As she’d hurried down the hall to the living room, knowing that was where the chocolate Lab would be, she wondered two things: how could Dave sleep through that horrid noise; and why, in a house ninety percent floored with hardwood and tile, did the dog always throw up on the carpet?
She’d made it in time and pushed the big brown dog out back. Standing stiff-legged on the lawn, he had heaved several more times but nothing came up. When she’d offered him breakfast and he wouldn’t even look at it, she’d known a vet visit would be on the day’s agenda.