The frothful wind. With spillswax, they travel up and down byways. From here the past is nought but rusted haystacks and paint on…
Agent Reynolds stared out the window of his wood-paneled office, trying to process this new information. His body jerked back…
That is not my story.
The rusty shovel slices through damp layers of earth. It’s been a long time since she’s bent her back to thankless…
“… Here across the pond in the United States on its Independence Day, in a ceremony of great pomp and…
500 words
His eyes are bleeding tears. “Mama, I hear noises again.”
Short story. Mr Keirney has an unfortunate accident with his soul.