Tag: short story
member name: Ken C.
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December 19, 2009 09:56 AM EST --
I know, it’s not like the world really needs another writing group, but here we are. With no fanfare or kettle drums, please allow me to introduce TAWB, The Apt Writers’ Bloc. The purpose . . .
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December 18, 2009 10:25 PM EST --
Jill was kind enough to allow me permission to feel fatherly pride in her accomplishment! A paid gig in Woman's World magazine for her charming story Peach-Flavored Kiss (or Kisses now, I guess). A . . .
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November 27, 2007 08:37 AM EST --
Tom carefully parked the old Toyota on the crest of a hill. The starter did not work, so he needed the incline to compression-start the car. The sky was obscured by woolen blanket of clouds that seemed . . .
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August 25, 2007 03:27 PM EDT --
Penelope Lake smiled sweetly, a bad sign of her mood. Sitting at the head of a walnut conference table, she watched the other ladies enter the room in groups of two or three. She sampled the snippets . . .
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May 10, 2009 04:00 PM EDT --
K en stood on his deck sipping a cup of organic French roast latte. The barista knew better, but his eight-ounce cup was filled with seven ounces. He always asked for six ounces and explained the . . .
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September 18, 2009 06:29 PM EDT --
Larry Langdon keenly eyed the Departures display at O'Hare International Airport. Why were all the planes always so late? His thoughts turned sharply to his brother Robert's God-given ability to fly . . .
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October 01, 2009 12:38 PM EDT --
This is our third episode of dissecting and mocking Dan Brown’s work. Just to be clear, Dan has a degree in English and he obviously has a marketable skill for creating fast-paced, puzzle-oriented . . .
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September 16, 2009 12:47 PM EDT --
Outside, the machinery was at work and the often-careless remarks of disgruntled workers, belligerent and discontent, under a golden disk of perpetual vision. The rays reveled in their time, infiltrating . . .
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September 19, 2009 09:02 AM EDT --
The secret is how to live.
Since the beginning of time, the secret had always been how to die, or rather, how to make others die -- and he’d learned that secret well. Now he needed to learn . . .
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September 20, 2009 01:21 AM EDT --
A loon sounded in the ink-black night, jerking Michael awake. The tendons in his forearms ached from strain. His enlarged knuckles had grown increasingly numb from the icy river water. He rowed the boat . . .
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September 25, 2009 10:38 AM EDT --
The little known, though highly regarded, senator, Integrity strode with purpose down the halls of Freedom to the once great room of Wisdom. His walk belied his fragile, broken step. Survival was in peril. . . .
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September 26, 2009 02:42 PM EDT --
Was he too late?
The smell of blood was strong warring with the crisp musty smell of books. He had to have the medallion and it’s encrypted chain; the weight of the world was on his . . .
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September 26, 2009 06:22 PM EDT --
The hooded figure slinked darkly through the stygian night, melting into the fog. He had to find the Chapel. It must be nearby. He began to run, over hill and dale, And then there it was, surrounded by . . .
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September 28, 2009 12:28 AM EDT --
They glance at me. Furtively. When they think I don't notice. They look at my eyes. Look at my mouth. Look at my face. They see their fears, their desires. They don't see me. I'm unseeable, hidden from . . .
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September 29, 2009 07:04 PM EDT --
With his shiny red, patent-leather shoes scraping across sticky tile, his red and white striped socks undulating like tackily dressed sea snakes, and his yellow jumpsuit billowing in the nonexistent breeze, . . .
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September 30, 2009 03:38 PM EDT --
The secret is…what was the question, again?
Robert “Britni” Langdon, newest pledge to the Delta Mu sorority, squeezed his once muscular, now slender five-foot-eleven-inch body into . . .
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September 20, 2009 10:19 AM EDT --
The Qui Key
Avenue des Champs-Élysées, Paris 9:53 PM
The streets of Paris were busy this night. Perhaps not more than any other night, but to Daniel Rembeau, they were . . .
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September 26, 2009 12:17 AM EDT --
Luc Pentacle lifted the bottle to his mouth. Missed. Damn. Cheap rotgut wouldn’t have opportunity to rot his gut.
Using both hands, he aimed again. Much better. He burped. Rot gutting—gut . . .
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September 26, 2009 12:23 AM EDT --
Father John McNeary slipped through the wrought iron gate of Trinity College just after nine. Five minutes later, his borrowed keycard unlocked the door on the second floor of the old library. The ghostly . . .
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February 15, 2009 01:37 PM EST --
"It's the most gruesome thing I've seen," Detective Crowley said.
"But they're just commas. Punctuation. They don't real exist in any physical form," Andrea said. . . .
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