Short Story

Knowing you have a mate gives you a strange type of high. You know you'll never be able to hold him, or love him or even admire him from afar without getting slander from the whole pack and yet, you still somehow find yourself hoping that maybe this is the moment when you finally break out of the prison of an isolated life.

Jason looked at the other papers and started laughing hysterically, “YES, I found everything I needed right now!!” Jason shoved the papers in front of Gage’s face and explained pointing to the upper right hand corner, “Mateo’s face is right here!,” he shifted his fingers to the middle, “And here’s classified info that proves he’s a criminal.” Jason took the papers back and read, “Wanted for: theft, possession of illegal goods, assault, evading arrest, and the list just goes on and on.”

Mother kisses the top of Clem's head and calls for Dad to bring her school. He sets his newspaper down and gets up. He walks over to me and kisses me on the forehead and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. This is an odd gesture to me seeing as affection is not necessarily allowed in our city. Apparently it is a form of self-indulgence, which is frowned upon in Rauhallinen.

Remus, seeing strait through the fake interest growled and let Moony take over his mind. He said nothing but instead rammed into the door. He bounced off it and went to do it again, this time he let his magic aid him and swirl around him as he came in contact with the sturdy wood.

An unsatisfying supper of turkey along with a few sides short of all the trimmings had awaited Phillip when he got home from Inez’s place.

Kudzu got some fresh cat food and water in his usual spot, and Sophia set up to feed Paloma on the opposite side of the kitchen. The kitchen table was set for four, and Sophia was the last to sit down, opposite Andy and between Barbara and Chip, who both reached out their hands to her. She put her hands in theirs, and Chip bowed his head and delivered the shortest prayer Sophia ever heard. “For what we have received, we give thanks. For what is to come, we say, ‘Yes!’”

Once upon a time animals could talk. When god gave Adam and Eve the privilege to roam around the garden and to eat off any tree except for the tree with the apples, he gave animals the same privilege except for, he gave them something extra. God gave animals the right to talk and walk, but under one condition, he said “You disobey me once then I take one of your privileges away”. All the animals were good and respectful to God and obeyed all his wishes except for one which was Mace the monkey. Mace the monkey felt like he didn't have to listen to anyone but himself, he didn't want anyone controlling him, Mace wanted to take god's spot so he tried to think of a plan on how he could do so.

Doctor Ruslana waited for the hand on the office clock to move. The little, black arm crept along its circuit in painful, agonizing slowness. The work day would never end. Her appointment with Detective Thibault was in five minutes, followed by four other sessions back to back after his. If she gave each client her undivided and Empathic attentions, it would be entirely too many emotions to process; her already overtaxed Enhancement would surely suffer. Marta understood this, but it couldn’t be helped, not if she wished to take Wednesday and Thursday off in addition to her normally scheduled days off on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. It was critically necessary for Marta to have five days without distraction and without the pressures of

Two boys, Alex and Hunter , who were best friends, like pees in a pod, were walking out of the athlete locker room on the second floor. Both of them were wearing their SHS Track and Field windbreaker jackets, which were both a size small, and fit them loosely because of their height and size. They had just gotten done with their individual and team sports gym class, and where about to head to seventh period. They were talking about their track meet that they were going to be having on Saturday, and Hunter was cracking jokes as he always did, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes it got on Alex’s nerves, but most of the time, he didn’t mind. Neither of them had any idea what was about to happen. Alex was on his phone playing his new game,

“Freshness is Greatness!” What kind of a slogan is that? It sounds like we’re doing a toothpaste commercial. It’s hard to believe we’re actually trying to sell soda. But the boss seems to like it and ask me and you don’t build a 200 million dollar empire by selling cheap so he should know. Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m the fool who can’t see the greatness in freshness! Fuck it anyway, where the hell am I? Who could have thought Stanley Park was this big. There’s a kid over there, maybe I could ask him about the way out. He looks a bit suspicious though. He’s wearing a hoodie and those baggy jeans kids like to wear these days, he’s probably black too. As I approached him he turned around and I could see that he was. “Excuse me; do you know the closest way out the park?”

Victoria was a creature of habit. She preferred to develop a routine as soon as possible; unpredictable schedules were her nightmare. Most of the time, every aspect of her life was planned. She picked out her outfit for the day the night before, she spent her Sundays making meals, and the time she spent with her friends was strictly organized, but still fun. Every day before work, Victoria would stop at a small coffee shop, which didn’t have the best coffee but it was the perfect distance between her apartment and part time job as a writer. Her parents were well off and gave her plenty of money when she first moved out so she didn’t have a lot of financial worries. It didn’t take long for Victoria to earn the title of ‘regular customer’ at

It was the party of the year, only the hottest, richest, and most popular teen socialites could attend. It was in celebration of surviving their first full week of senior year. There they were, scattered across the enormous penthouse, martinis in hand and holding meaningless conversations with people they probably didn’t like talking about how much daddy’s money bought them this weekend.It was the same spiel over and over again, money this money that, it was almost like because they had so much money it's all they could talk about. There was however something else a little less shallow among their conversations. There had been rumours circulating around Pembroke Preparatory School all week that Cordelia Scott, the once wild child “it” girl

As was her habit to do between council meetings, Mithian retreated to the palace gardens on that morning. Anxiety unsteadied her gait along the familiar cobble-lined paths over the latest border reports with Cawdor and the Southrons. Disgust grated on her sensibilities concerning the advisors’ views on peasant affairs in the countryside. Impatience weighed down on her like a lead weight.

There we were: a dilapidated bench in Parc Bryn Cegin, myself only a haircut and a hip transplant from my eighteen-year-old self, and Kenny, portly and bald from head to toe, resembling the Michelin man or maybe an alopeciac. Both of us were still in our all-blacks, with matching hand-carved oak boxes clenched between our thighs.

Gary must have phoned while she slept; he’d left a voicemail to say he would see her for breakfast, and to expect Liz. Jen played the message repeatedly, agonising over each word, his tone, the brevity of the message. She was desperate to see him, to judge the effect her behaviour of last night had had on him, yet she dreaded this encounter. Had he asked Liz to come as a witness or a referee? Coffee was percolating, the croissants warming in the oven. Angie was at the table; Jen could see her knee jerking, as if keeping beat to a song only audible to her.