by Joseph Davidson
When I was young, Calvin and his tiger taught me a cardboard box could be a time machine. It didn’t work for me. Angry, I piled up those books and burned them.
As I turned thirty, life fell apart. My love left. My dog died. No job. I found myself with a Sharpie, scrawling TIME MACHINE on the side of another cardboard box.
I hopped in. Closed my eyes. BANG! There I was, staring at a younger me, matches in hand above the comics. I took them from him with a conspiratorial wink.
Maybe thirty won’t be so bad now.
Author bio: Joseph is the Assistant Director of Storyfort in Boise, Idaho. When he's not working with Storyfort he's either working on finishing his Creative Writing degree at Boise State University or being the head honcho over at Procyon Creatives. His work has appeared in 101 Fiction and From Whispers to Roars. You can find him on Twitter @ajoedavidson and check out what the Procyon crew is up to at procyoncreatives.com
Cardboard is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Sunday, 15 December 2019
Reverse
by Sharon Frame Gay
She kills me every day. I loop round and round in time, coming back to the moment when she backs her car into me as I cross behind her with the groceries.
"John! Oh John!" she cries, as the oranges and apples roll under the rear tires. The last thing I see are the eggs, crushed and seeping from their shells, running into my blood.
I do not see a light for my soul to follow. I only hear her sobbing to the police.
Frightened and sad, I relive this moment forever.
I can always tell when she is lying.
Author bio: Bio: Sharon Frame Gay has been internationally published in many anthologies and literary magazines including Chicken Soup For The Soul, Thrice Fiction, Crannog, Typehouse, Lowestoft Chronicle and others. She has won awards at Rope and Wire, The Writing District, Wow-Women On Writing, and has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
Reverse is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
She kills me every day. I loop round and round in time, coming back to the moment when she backs her car into me as I cross behind her with the groceries.
"John! Oh John!" she cries, as the oranges and apples roll under the rear tires. The last thing I see are the eggs, crushed and seeping from their shells, running into my blood.
I do not see a light for my soul to follow. I only hear her sobbing to the police.
Frightened and sad, I relive this moment forever.
I can always tell when she is lying.
Author bio: Bio: Sharon Frame Gay has been internationally published in many anthologies and literary magazines including Chicken Soup For The Soul, Thrice Fiction, Crannog, Typehouse, Lowestoft Chronicle and others. She has won awards at Rope and Wire, The Writing District, Wow-Women On Writing, and has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
Reverse is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Collected
by Shannon Bell
The blade slices through flesh, seizes another death.
My father’s voice echoes inside me; “Prove your worth. Travel, to other worlds, dimensions, and times, gathering souls. When you have taken enough, the knife will glow. Only then may you return.”
I stare at the weapon. It remains dull. Hundreds of years, thousands of lives. How many more? How much longer? I can almost hear my father’s voice counselling patience.
Blood drips from the steel. I’m tired of travelling. I’m sick of slaughter. I plunge the blade into my stomach. “I’m sorry, father. I wasn’t worthy.”
Death approaches. The knife glows.
Author bio: Shannon Bell is addicted to words. You will find him madly writing away in the spare time he has available between holding down a full-time job, being part of a dysfunctional family and looking after his attention seeking dog. His stories have been published in Dark Edifice, Short & Twisted, 101 Fiction and strippedlit500. You can follow Shannon on Twitter at @ShannonBell1967.
Collected is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
The blade slices through flesh, seizes another death.
My father’s voice echoes inside me; “Prove your worth. Travel, to other worlds, dimensions, and times, gathering souls. When you have taken enough, the knife will glow. Only then may you return.”
I stare at the weapon. It remains dull. Hundreds of years, thousands of lives. How many more? How much longer? I can almost hear my father’s voice counselling patience.
Blood drips from the steel. I’m tired of travelling. I’m sick of slaughter. I plunge the blade into my stomach. “I’m sorry, father. I wasn’t worthy.”
Death approaches. The knife glows.
Author bio: Shannon Bell is addicted to words. You will find him madly writing away in the spare time he has available between holding down a full-time job, being part of a dysfunctional family and looking after his attention seeking dog. His stories have been published in Dark Edifice, Short & Twisted, 101 Fiction and strippedlit500. You can follow Shannon on Twitter at @ShannonBell1967.
Collected is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Payback
by Wm. Brett Hill
Kip trailed the man through the crowd, intent on what had to be done. There was no time left to put it off. It had to happen now. The bastard had unapologetically ruined everything in his life and he would have to pay. Kip slipped the pistol from his pocket and raised it, unconcerned with who saw the action or what they would do.
“It’s over,” he said, “finally.”
Hoping this desperate act was the solution, a tear rolled down his cheek as he took a deep breath and shot himself, thirty years younger, in the back of the head.
Author bio: Wm. Brett Hill lives on the Eastern Shore of Maryland where he spends time with his wife and daughter, works in IT, and writes stories. His short fiction has appeared in 101 Fiction, Firewords, Flash Fiction Magazine, and numerous others.
Payback is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Kip trailed the man through the crowd, intent on what had to be done. There was no time left to put it off. It had to happen now. The bastard had unapologetically ruined everything in his life and he would have to pay. Kip slipped the pistol from his pocket and raised it, unconcerned with who saw the action or what they would do.
“It’s over,” he said, “finally.”
Hoping this desperate act was the solution, a tear rolled down his cheek as he took a deep breath and shot himself, thirty years younger, in the back of the head.
Author bio: Wm. Brett Hill lives on the Eastern Shore of Maryland where he spends time with his wife and daughter, works in IT, and writes stories. His short fiction has appeared in 101 Fiction, Firewords, Flash Fiction Magazine, and numerous others.
Payback is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Burble
by Allen Ashley
“But we’ve never travelled back that far. The T-force would be unimaginable.”
“Listen, son, I’ve seen the Crucifixion, the fall of Rome and the palace of Rameses. T-force is nothing; just a little burble in the stomach.”
“But sixty-five million years is not the same as sixty-five hundred.”
“Just do it. I’ll pay you a bonus.”
And now, as his craft slowly materialised, the Cretaceous hove into view. A Tyrannosaurus circled a young Triceratops, ready to strike. Perfect moment.
But the pressure… the transportation-force. Instead of a gentle emergence, he was arriving like a megatonic missile… exploding, darkening the sky…
Author bio: Allen Ashley works as a creative writing tutor and is the founder of the advanced science fiction and fantasy group Clockhouse London Writers. His latest book is as editor of the anthology “The Once and Future Moon” (Eibonvale Press, 2019). His flash “Cookbook” featured in “101 Fiction” issue 24.
“But we’ve never travelled back that far. The T-force would be unimaginable.”
“Listen, son, I’ve seen the Crucifixion, the fall of Rome and the palace of Rameses. T-force is nothing; just a little burble in the stomach.”
“But sixty-five million years is not the same as sixty-five hundred.”
“Just do it. I’ll pay you a bonus.”
And now, as his craft slowly materialised, the Cretaceous hove into view. A Tyrannosaurus circled a young Triceratops, ready to strike. Perfect moment.
But the pressure… the transportation-force. Instead of a gentle emergence, he was arriving like a megatonic missile… exploding, darkening the sky…
Author bio: Allen Ashley works as a creative writing tutor and is the founder of the advanced science fiction and fantasy group Clockhouse London Writers. His latest book is as editor of the anthology “The Once and Future Moon” (Eibonvale Press, 2019). His flash “Cookbook” featured in “101 Fiction” issue 24.
Burble is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Compression
by Karen Hallam
The pictures anchor us to the past.
Waking from the long sleep, my old body is gone, I slip into a new outer shell. Only consciousness crosses over.
At least I still have eyes, I’m seeing in the same colour spectrum. I spit out the bitter waking solution, confirming tongue and taste remain. My first breaths tell me I have lungs.
The inspector strolls over, without a care in the world, not having been compressed into a nightmare. The dreams they tell us, are the passageway. When we awaken a new world is possible. It looks the same to me.
Author bio: I'm a member of SCBWI and International Thriller Writers. My Young Adult novella, The Unmoving Sky was published with Leap Books in 2016, and my Sci-Fi story Charger Nine was featured in the anthology Alien Dimensions #13 (October 2017). Over and Over is the debut issue of Fantasy Short Stories Anthology (Sept. 2018), and my SFF story G.L.O.R.I.A. published in Alien Dimensions #16 (Sept. 2018). Currently revising a historical fantasy.
www.karenleehallam.com
www.klhallam.com
Goodreads
Twitter
Instagram
Compression is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
The pictures anchor us to the past.
Waking from the long sleep, my old body is gone, I slip into a new outer shell. Only consciousness crosses over.
At least I still have eyes, I’m seeing in the same colour spectrum. I spit out the bitter waking solution, confirming tongue and taste remain. My first breaths tell me I have lungs.
The inspector strolls over, without a care in the world, not having been compressed into a nightmare. The dreams they tell us, are the passageway. When we awaken a new world is possible. It looks the same to me.
Author bio: I'm a member of SCBWI and International Thriller Writers. My Young Adult novella, The Unmoving Sky was published with Leap Books in 2016, and my Sci-Fi story Charger Nine was featured in the anthology Alien Dimensions #13 (October 2017). Over and Over is the debut issue of Fantasy Short Stories Anthology (Sept. 2018), and my SFF story G.L.O.R.I.A. published in Alien Dimensions #16 (Sept. 2018). Currently revising a historical fantasy.
www.karenleehallam.com
www.klhallam.com
Goodreads
Compression is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Degeneration
by John Xero
“When are we?”
“Do you mean where?” She knew word choice could be difficult. “Or what time is it?”
He grabbed her shoulders. “What year?”
“Now, now.” Her heart raced, her exterior remained calm; his mind was not his own. “It’s 2019, December.”
He let go. “Twenty... nineteen? No...” He began to tremble. “It’s too early.”
“Early?”
His eyes went glassy with tears. “The drugs don’t exist yet. Time travel, see, taxes the brain; temporal drag wreaks havoc, degenerative, ongoing.”
“Of course,” she nodded. His past was unknown, a mystery patient, but they all guessed sci-fi nerd, before the dementia.
Author bio: Over the past year and a half (ish) John Xero has had a daughter (adventurous, bright, contrary), changed careers (to care work, with dementia) and taken up aquascaping (soon to include fish)... He wonders why he struggles to find time for his old (but still real) passions, of writing and reading...
Occasional twittering: twitter.com/xeroverse
Blog (in desperate need of new content): xeroverse.com
Instagram (surprisingly active): instagram.com/johnxero
Degeneration is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
“When are we?”
“Do you mean where?” She knew word choice could be difficult. “Or what time is it?”
He grabbed her shoulders. “What year?”
“Now, now.” Her heart raced, her exterior remained calm; his mind was not his own. “It’s 2019, December.”
He let go. “Twenty... nineteen? No...” He began to tremble. “It’s too early.”
“Early?”
His eyes went glassy with tears. “The drugs don’t exist yet. Time travel, see, taxes the brain; temporal drag wreaks havoc, degenerative, ongoing.”
“Of course,” she nodded. His past was unknown, a mystery patient, but they all guessed sci-fi nerd, before the dementia.
Author bio: Over the past year and a half (ish) John Xero has had a daughter (adventurous, bright, contrary), changed careers (to care work, with dementia) and taken up aquascaping (soon to include fish)... He wonders why he struggles to find time for his old (but still real) passions, of writing and reading...
Occasional twittering: twitter.com/xeroverse
Blog (in desperate need of new content): xeroverse.com
Instagram (surprisingly active): instagram.com/johnxero
Degeneration is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Charity
by Christopher Collingwood
You can never escape the cold look of fear in a dying man’s eyes, it always pulls you in, clutching for any chance of hope. Whether it was the young sergeant clinging to her arm, or a four-hundred-year-old photograph, it had the same effect.
That’s why she volunteered for historical service in a WWII field hospital, she understood the purpose in relieving past human suffering, even if history couldn’t be changed.
She knew the sergeant’s fate had been sealed the moment he coughed blood, her eyes offered him some relief, “my name is Mila Charity, I’ll stay by your side."
Author bio: Chris was born and raised in Sydney Australia. He completed university in Sydney and graduated with a degree in business studies. Chris has devoted his spare time to writing, with works published in Outposts of Beyond, Illumen, Neo-Opsis, Liquid Imagination, Abyss & Apex,Adelaide Magazine, Empty Silos Book (Inwood Indiana), Fantastical Savannahs and Jungles Anthology (Rogue Planet) and various works in Oz Poetic Society.
You can never escape the cold look of fear in a dying man’s eyes, it always pulls you in, clutching for any chance of hope. Whether it was the young sergeant clinging to her arm, or a four-hundred-year-old photograph, it had the same effect.
That’s why she volunteered for historical service in a WWII field hospital, she understood the purpose in relieving past human suffering, even if history couldn’t be changed.
She knew the sergeant’s fate had been sealed the moment he coughed blood, her eyes offered him some relief, “my name is Mila Charity, I’ll stay by your side."
Author bio: Chris was born and raised in Sydney Australia. He completed university in Sydney and graduated with a degree in business studies. Chris has devoted his spare time to writing, with works published in Outposts of Beyond, Illumen, Neo-Opsis, Liquid Imagination, Abyss & Apex,Adelaide Magazine, Empty Silos Book (Inwood Indiana), Fantastical Savannahs and Jungles Anthology (Rogue Planet) and various works in Oz Poetic Society.
Charity is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Memorial
by Kelly White
An act of violence distends through time and space, thinning the distance between them and me. I slip backwards and forwards to watch from darkened doorways, liminal spaces.
The first time I bore witness was accidental. I heard it, felt it, before I slipped through and saw – pulled back as time coagulated, trembling. So much blood.
I kneel next to his body, hold his hand. He squeezes mine, vice-like, silent questions in his pale eyes. His breathing is shallow.
I wish it was different, I say, and mean it. It never is.
I will remember you.
I remember them all.
Author bio: Kelly White writes horror. Her story, The Yellow Marble, was published by KnightWatch Press in the anthology Play Things and Past Times. You can find her on Twitter @KWhiteHorror.
Memorial is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
An act of violence distends through time and space, thinning the distance between them and me. I slip backwards and forwards to watch from darkened doorways, liminal spaces.
The first time I bore witness was accidental. I heard it, felt it, before I slipped through and saw – pulled back as time coagulated, trembling. So much blood.
I kneel next to his body, hold his hand. He squeezes mine, vice-like, silent questions in his pale eyes. His breathing is shallow.
I wish it was different, I say, and mean it. It never is.
I will remember you.
I remember them all.
Author bio: Kelly White writes horror. Her story, The Yellow Marble, was published by KnightWatch Press in the anthology Play Things and Past Times. You can find her on Twitter @KWhiteHorror.
Memorial is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
Torsion
by Joanna Koch
When we met, we were lovers. Knew everything from soul to favourite sandwich, one identity for two bodies clocked in tandem, geared by friction and teeth.
We sped up as we loved. We knew more.
Torque and torture. We had fun winding each other up.
The next twist tighter, no room, ratcheted cycle redundant. You went limp, came back, and left again. We didn’t wait. Sprang forward, fell back, and met again and again. Swung the weight of our knowledge like a wrecking ball.
We live without walls. The pendulum of desire pounds a stranger. Our calibrated face marks time.
Author bio: Joanna Koch writes literary horror and surrealist trash. Author of the novella “The Couvade,” their short fiction has been published in journals and anthologies such as “Synth,” “Honey & Sulphur,” and “In Darkness Delight: Masters of Midnight.” Consume their monstrous musings at horrorsong.blog.
horrorsong.blog
twitter.com/horrorsong
amazon.com/Joanna-Koch
When we met, we were lovers. Knew everything from soul to favourite sandwich, one identity for two bodies clocked in tandem, geared by friction and teeth.
We sped up as we loved. We knew more.
Torque and torture. We had fun winding each other up.
The next twist tighter, no room, ratcheted cycle redundant. You went limp, came back, and left again. We didn’t wait. Sprang forward, fell back, and met again and again. Swung the weight of our knowledge like a wrecking ball.
We live without walls. The pendulum of desire pounds a stranger. Our calibrated face marks time.
Author bio: Joanna Koch writes literary horror and surrealist trash. Author of the novella “The Couvade,” their short fiction has been published in journals and anthologies such as “Synth,” “Honey & Sulphur,” and “In Darkness Delight: Masters of Midnight.” Consume their monstrous musings at horrorsong.blog.
horrorsong.blog
twitter.com/horrorsong
amazon.com/Joanna-Koch
Torsion is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.
December 2019. Issue 25. Postscript.
You have reached the end of the issue but perhaps, like a time traveller, you did not arrive here from the beginning, in the usual order. In fact, if today is Sunday 15th December then you have arrived at creation, the beginning of all things (well, this issue), and more stories will be going live throughout the day. We encourage you to loop back round in time and come back for more as the day goes on.
If today is beyond that day, then you are in the future, you have (we hope) read the whole issue, but do not despair! There is more, so much more, tiny fiction if you dive deeper down our timeline. Twenty four more quarterly issues await you, and even further back, in the protozoic period of 101 Fiction, stories were publishing on a weekly basis.
Thank you for being here, for reading our stories.
Thank you to everyone who puts the word out, who helps make our tiny voices heard. The tweets and retweets, the blogs, the writing groups. You're all brilliant.
The biggest thanks, always, always, always, goes to our contributors. This place is built of your imagination, skill and passion. We wouldn't be what we are, without you. Thank you.
And you can be a part of it. All of you. Just keep an eye here or on our twitter for details and announcement of the next submissions theme and period.
Keep writing.
Keep reading.
Have fun.
- John Xero
If today is beyond that day, then you are in the future, you have (we hope) read the whole issue, but do not despair! There is more, so much more, tiny fiction if you dive deeper down our timeline. Twenty four more quarterly issues await you, and even further back, in the protozoic period of 101 Fiction, stories were publishing on a weekly basis.
Thank you for being here, for reading our stories.
Thank you to everyone who puts the word out, who helps make our tiny voices heard. The tweets and retweets, the blogs, the writing groups. You're all brilliant.
The biggest thanks, always, always, always, goes to our contributors. This place is built of your imagination, skill and passion. We wouldn't be what we are, without you. Thank you.
And you can be a part of it. All of you. Just keep an eye here or on our twitter for details and announcement of the next submissions theme and period.
Keep writing.
Keep reading.
Have fun.
- John Xero
Wednesday, 16 October 2019
December issue open for submissions.
Now closed for submissions.
From now until November 17th we are OPEN for submissions!
The theme cycle this year has been the ways we observe and record our world. We've had maps, pictures, and books so far and we always like to do something a little different for the end of the cycle, so the theme is time, or more specifically: TIME TRAVEL.
We're genuinely excited to see what hits our inbox over the next month. Killing Hitler has been done, time and time again, but we're sure the creativity and originality we see here issue after issue is going to shine through with some truly thrilling stuff.
It could be a machine that stitches points in time together, but cannot separate them again. Or a colossal clockwork time machine spinning faster and faster, out of control, dragging everyone and everything with it. A Victorian daemon hunter, pursuing his mark through an arcane portal, finding himself in its birthplace, the military gene factories of 2101 AD. Maybe a harmless disease, unthinkingly brought back to an era without immunity, becomes a plague. Or it could be a wizard of the barren plains and black seas travelling back to witness creation, and finding us, staring at screens as our world melts around us.
We're primarily a genre magazine, although our focus often drifts, so sci-fi, horror, fantasy, also surreal, literary, crime (and the great thing about time travel is it provides such rich opportunities for genre mash-ups), but ultimately, the stories we accept are the ones that won't let go, the ones that light a fire within us, the ones that demand to be re-read, time after time.
The theme of time travel must be present in the story (although the actual act does not need to take place within the story). The title cannot be time or travel or any variation of those, and the story must be exactly 100 words, with a 1 word title. Full guidelines are here.
Imagine.
Create.
Have fun!
The theme cycle this year has been the ways we observe and record our world. We've had maps, pictures, and books so far and we always like to do something a little different for the end of the cycle, so the theme is time, or more specifically: TIME TRAVEL.
We're genuinely excited to see what hits our inbox over the next month. Killing Hitler has been done, time and time again, but we're sure the creativity and originality we see here issue after issue is going to shine through with some truly thrilling stuff.
It could be a machine that stitches points in time together, but cannot separate them again. Or a colossal clockwork time machine spinning faster and faster, out of control, dragging everyone and everything with it. A Victorian daemon hunter, pursuing his mark through an arcane portal, finding himself in its birthplace, the military gene factories of 2101 AD. Maybe a harmless disease, unthinkingly brought back to an era without immunity, becomes a plague. Or it could be a wizard of the barren plains and black seas travelling back to witness creation, and finding us, staring at screens as our world melts around us.
We're primarily a genre magazine, although our focus often drifts, so sci-fi, horror, fantasy, also surreal, literary, crime (and the great thing about time travel is it provides such rich opportunities for genre mash-ups), but ultimately, the stories we accept are the ones that won't let go, the ones that light a fire within us, the ones that demand to be re-read, time after time.
The theme of time travel must be present in the story (although the actual act does not need to take place within the story). The title cannot be time or travel or any variation of those, and the story must be exactly 100 words, with a 1 word title. Full guidelines are here.
Imagine.
Create.
Have fun!
Saturday, 14 September 2019
September 2019. Issue 24.
Welcome to issue 24: A little library of tiny bookish tales. You’ll find a different take on the book theme with every turn of the page, showcasing the breadth of imagination, creativity and humanity that has become the hallmark of 101 Fiction.
From dark dystopias to the modern home. Books born of death, to life crawling off the page. Heartache and heroes, oppression and introspection, magic and booze.
There’s fire in this issue, in defiance, in defence, in books on the pyre. There’s knowledge, and truth, and all the dangers they can bring. There are aching hearts, through loss and love. There are forests, real and unreal. Some of the stories metaphorically dissect humanity, others more literally. There are monsters raised from the page, others who look just like you and I. And, as with all books, there are characters doomed to retread the same paths again and again.
Books are worlds you can live in, and the best flash fiction feels like a world encapsulated, an open door you only need to walk through to be there in that other world. Here we have nineteen living worlds, just waiting for you to step into.
Read.
Absorb.
Enjoy.
From dark dystopias to the modern home. Books born of death, to life crawling off the page. Heartache and heroes, oppression and introspection, magic and booze.
There’s fire in this issue, in defiance, in defence, in books on the pyre. There’s knowledge, and truth, and all the dangers they can bring. There are aching hearts, through loss and love. There are forests, real and unreal. Some of the stories metaphorically dissect humanity, others more literally. There are monsters raised from the page, others who look just like you and I. And, as with all books, there are characters doomed to retread the same paths again and again.
Books are worlds you can live in, and the best flash fiction feels like a world encapsulated, an open door you only need to walk through to be there in that other world. Here we have nineteen living worlds, just waiting for you to step into.
Read.
Absorb.
Enjoy.
____
Keep on scrolling for the stories, or you can bring the whole issue up here. Alternatively, there is a free .pdf version available to download here (right click and save), which you can keep, forever, and dip into whenever you like, even when you're not connected, when there's no signal and no wifi (the modern horror story...).
Flourishing
by Phil Dyer
“Just give us a name,” said the judge, waving again at the three slim volumes of incendiary manifesto. His eyes were not unkind. “This doesn’t have to fall on you.”
The woman in the dock spread her hands as far as manacles allowed. “I found them. I’m just the gardener.”
They burned the books in a pit behind the gallows. The ash fell with the rain, trickling grey through soil stained with thwarted revolution.
The first shoots appeared unnoticed. Pale leaves unfurled towards the sun, their irregular markings maturing from scrawl to careful text. A breeze ruffled the nascent pages.
Author bio: Phil Dyer does medical research in Liverpool and writes spec fic on the side. His stories have recently appeared in BFS Horizons, 101 Fiction, and Black Hare Press. He retweets animal gifs @ez_ozel.
“Just give us a name,” said the judge, waving again at the three slim volumes of incendiary manifesto. His eyes were not unkind. “This doesn’t have to fall on you.”
The woman in the dock spread her hands as far as manacles allowed. “I found them. I’m just the gardener.”
They burned the books in a pit behind the gallows. The ash fell with the rain, trickling grey through soil stained with thwarted revolution.
The first shoots appeared unnoticed. Pale leaves unfurled towards the sun, their irregular markings maturing from scrawl to careful text. A breeze ruffled the nascent pages.
Author bio: Phil Dyer does medical research in Liverpool and writes spec fic on the side. His stories have recently appeared in BFS Horizons, 101 Fiction, and Black Hare Press. He retweets animal gifs @ez_ozel.
Flourishing is part of 101 Fiction issue 24.
Derelict
by Susan Carey
I saw a down-and-out reading a book in the park. Men and women in black uniforms fell on him: ants devouring a moth.
That night I sleepwalked to the local library. Barefoot over sharp rubble. Picked up a trashy romance that had escaped the burn: Love Conquers All.
“I had to prise it from your fingers.” Daisy puts on black clothes and hugs me.
The photo of us on Venice Beach, after I proposed, leaves a dark silhouette on the album page. I tuck it into my breast pocket.
I leave in secret. Daisy will have told them by now.
Author bio: Angela Williams, who writes as Susan Carey, lives in Amsterdam where she teaches English as a second language and writes stories in between the more important jobs of dog-walking and dreaming of worldwide renown. She has had short stories and flash fiction published and performed by amongst others; Mslexia, Liars' League, Stringybark Publishing, Writers Abroad, Reflex Fiction, Flash Flood Journal and Casket of Fictional Delights.
Twitter: @su_carey
Blog: https://amsterdamoriole.com/writing/
I saw a down-and-out reading a book in the park. Men and women in black uniforms fell on him: ants devouring a moth.
That night I sleepwalked to the local library. Barefoot over sharp rubble. Picked up a trashy romance that had escaped the burn: Love Conquers All.
“I had to prise it from your fingers.” Daisy puts on black clothes and hugs me.
The photo of us on Venice Beach, after I proposed, leaves a dark silhouette on the album page. I tuck it into my breast pocket.
I leave in secret. Daisy will have told them by now.
Author bio: Angela Williams, who writes as Susan Carey, lives in Amsterdam where she teaches English as a second language and writes stories in between the more important jobs of dog-walking and dreaming of worldwide renown. She has had short stories and flash fiction published and performed by amongst others; Mslexia, Liars' League, Stringybark Publishing, Writers Abroad, Reflex Fiction, Flash Flood Journal and Casket of Fictional Delights.
Twitter: @su_carey
Blog: https://amsterdamoriole.com/writing/
Derelict is part of 101 Fiction issue 24.
Paperwings
by Ben Kutina
The word we used was ‘paperwings.’ The learned ones who knew the symbols soared in their thoughts through worlds lost to time. Our tribe called them miracles, others named them sorcery. Wars were fought, blood was shed. We lost, and now they burn.
They made us watch.
They brought us to the pyre, their mouths smiling, eyes weeping from the smoke and exultation. They called themselves liberators even as our freedom burned. Our feathers clipped, our paper wings reduced to cinder, scorched and scorned and soaring, now nothing more than ash and memory.
The dead should stay silent, they said.
Author bio: Ben Kutina is a fledgling writer and graduate of SUNY Geneseo living in Western New York. He has been an editor for Gandy Dancer and his writing has appeared in Odyssey.
The word we used was ‘paperwings.’ The learned ones who knew the symbols soared in their thoughts through worlds lost to time. Our tribe called them miracles, others named them sorcery. Wars were fought, blood was shed. We lost, and now they burn.
They made us watch.
They brought us to the pyre, their mouths smiling, eyes weeping from the smoke and exultation. They called themselves liberators even as our freedom burned. Our feathers clipped, our paper wings reduced to cinder, scorched and scorned and soaring, now nothing more than ash and memory.
The dead should stay silent, they said.
Author bio: Ben Kutina is a fledgling writer and graduate of SUNY Geneseo living in Western New York. He has been an editor for Gandy Dancer and his writing has appeared in Odyssey.
Paperwings is part of 101 Fiction issue 24.
Bride
by PK Abiodun
‘Come here, let them see you.’
One fidgets, shivers a little, One is not ready for this. Does not like this. The whole ceremony of it all. One has read too much. And that is the problem.
‘Come here, stand with your other sisters. Let him see you very well.’
One is paraded. Her hands akimbo, her chin up, her gown cut short, kissing her knee. One is presented.
‘You see, too many books have spoiled her. But she will listen. Take your pick.’
One waits for his touch. Spits. One has read too much. And that is the problem.
Author bio: PK Abiodun is a storyteller who codes and creates machines that understand literature. He is a lover of irreconcilable arts and music that do not announce themselves. PK writes from Nigeria.
‘Come here, let them see you.’
One fidgets, shivers a little, One is not ready for this. Does not like this. The whole ceremony of it all. One has read too much. And that is the problem.
‘Come here, stand with your other sisters. Let him see you very well.’
One is paraded. Her hands akimbo, her chin up, her gown cut short, kissing her knee. One is presented.
‘You see, too many books have spoiled her. But she will listen. Take your pick.’
One waits for his touch. Spits. One has read too much. And that is the problem.
Author bio: PK Abiodun is a storyteller who codes and creates machines that understand literature. He is a lover of irreconcilable arts and music that do not announce themselves. PK writes from Nigeria.
Bride is part of 101 Fiction issue 24.
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