Short Story

“When you arrived at these baths, searching for a cure, Memor summoned me to his villa as quickly as possible. When I entered the villa, I found Memor terrified. I was astonished. I had never seen Memor so frightened.

“Of course you didn’t mean for this to happen. Bizarre things like this aren’t meant to happen, but the king is dead.” I said looking him straight in his tear filled eyes. I saw the look of apprehension clearly taking over his mind. “If it hadn’t been for you, he would still be

Scuttling innocently through the twisting corridors I bore the same expression; head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding any eye contact - my desperate attempts to deter the despot for one day at least. Despite my efforts, there was no escape, as seemingly within the second of having that naively optimistic thought, a cruel, callous voice demanded I surrender my broach. Fear spiked, as it always did, but with it came something else, an alien emotion ... Looking back now, I see that it must have been the cumulative effect of months of torment that brought me to the realisation that at this point I had reached the nadir of my life. Deriding cackles pierced my ears and this time I recognised the emotion, fury. It burned through my veins, along with the memories of the past to form a feeling of overwhelming power. I met the daggers that would usually invoke terror, and calmly, I said “No.”

“You’ve finally done it, you killed me. I hate losing, even if there are better ways to die at the hands of a man like you.” Roy’s cold black eyes stared at her, emotionless. “I like your eyes, I can’t wait for the day when their wide with agony. That day, is soon.” Then it was over, her body didn’t leave a trace. Roy fell to the floor in pain from his wound.

He sat like that, alone in a world gone brittle and suddenly still breathed. He didn’t notice the light creeping on the karsts in Orphic tendrils of deep blues, moody purples, and blistering red-gold. Dismissed the blood, sweat, and warpaint smudging

The sun begins to set on an average Monday in downtown Prescott. The earth produces a clean, floral scent. Flowers bursting with joy for the precious gift of hydration. Bystanders bent over in approval at the content, stratified flowers. The clouds paint the sky like petite sponges drifting in the light breeze. Cicadas hum obnoxiously in the distance. Random tourists head quickly turned as sirens roll past the church in an extremely urgent fashion. A massive dull, white tent supplies an abundance of cool shade cover for what is going to be a gathering. Men, women, and children flood under the canopy for relief and peace. Before finding their seats they make their way to the dessert and coffee table. An assortment of treats

“Yeah…I-It fits…” They look in the mirror and a smile tugs at the corner of Ryan’s lips, tears start to prick their eyes and they choke back a sob.

He stared at the parchment incredulously. His eyes blinked and then reread the parchment several times. His eyes watered at her sentiments. Her prose warmed his heart.

“It’s… 4:00 A.M., Jess, how could you possibly need me this early in the morning?”

Well, let's go inside,” said her grandmother. The expression on her grandmother’s face showed her excitement for a new granddaughter. Sophia saw the reflection of her bright smile on the hospital door and wondered, “Will she look like mom? What color hair will she have? I don’t know, I just want to see her.”

Staying in the middle of New York currently is bothersome. There is a raging heat outside and my air conditioning unit has broken down. No one comes into my shop, except for my regulars, anymore. No one believes in old styled medicine, anymore. No one, except, for the boy roaming in my shop comes in, anymore. He looks about fourteen and a little dirty, but who isn’t at his age. His footsteps cause my discolored floorboards to creak, I hope he doesn’t fall through one of them. His green eyes look lost, but his body knows where he is. He comes in regularly and at the same exact time, two o’clock p.m. His watch goes off, he turns it off, then he sets a new time, and begins to roam. Now, he is in the back end of my storefront, looking at the

Lukas woke up and stretched, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He groaned as he leaned back and popped back. He felt like he was forgetting something, but he quickly brushed it off, seeing as “if you forget it, it’s probably not very important,” according a certain idiotic Dane. Speaking of him, normally Lukas’s sleep would be interrupted far before-Lukas checked the time- nine o’clock! Maybe Matthias had decided on having mercy on the house’s occupants today? Then, Lukas heard a loud crash from downstairs and sighed. Not today…

Roughly eighteen minutes had passed since Payne left his apartment, and he already wanted to go home.

On a Friday night, Billy and I decided to go out to what was becoming our new favorite bar, Paradise. They had karaoke almost every night of the week, since the owners ran a mobile karaoke show as well, and both had amazing voices. It was a small corner bar, barely big enough for a pool table, but the crowd was fun, the karaoke was good, and the owners knew how to run a bar well.

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.