Thank you to everyone who entered the STORGY Halloween Short Story Competition! It was a pleasure to read the diverse entries received, and we are honored to have experienced the thrill of reading such fine writing. Our editors have chosen the winning stories and over the course of the next week leading up to Halloween
Category: Fiction
Thank you to everyone who entered the STORGY Halloween Short Story Competition! It was a pleasure to read the diverse entries received, and we are honored to have experienced the thrill of reading such fine writing. Our editors have chosen the winning stories and over the course of the next week leading up to Halloween
Thank you to everyone who entered the STORGY Halloween Short Story Competition! It was a pleasure to read the diverse entries received, and we are honored to have experienced the thrill of reading such fine writing. Our editors have chosen the winning stories and over the course of the next week leading up to Halloween
I When he heard the explosions as he drove into camp, First Lieutenant Leonard Klein naturally assumed, it being Friday, that there was a hoopball match on. Hoopball was a slightly misleading name, as it did not involve a hoop at all, and though it was in part a throwing game, it did not involve
The coastal town of C, half an hour drive from Lisbon, looked cheerful on the TripAdvisor photos, and her choice of the summer holiday was made quickly. She arrived in C in oppressive August heat, high on expectation. She would go straight to the beach, large and deserted as it was in the photos, isolated
The sheer volume of flowers at Amé’s sugar daddy’s repast implies a wedding rather than a funeral. I imagine the florists being confused when delivering to the church, arms overflowing with expensive bouquets and fretting, “These are for the funeral? Are you sure?” Everyone is dressed from head-to-toe in an expensive shade of black. Dry
once upon a time . . . Ø ø : Early morning and called to investigate a multiple murder & suicide «first reports» It was November and the kind of wintercold thought lost to childhood : blu’black a.m.=sky with low sodia that ran around residentials and parallined roads, but all equalling one thing : inhabitance
Michael couldn’t stop drinking. His wife Ruth had. “Hey,” he prodded Ruth. He sniffed and rubbed his head. Ruth remained still. He went to the toilet. After flushing on his way to the kitchen, he passed the large framed picture of Walthamstow dog track that he’d taken with him from rented flat -to- rented flat,
Sam and Lana leave their Prius on this ninety-nine degree day and half run to the entrance. On opening the metal and glass door, they are hit with a blast of arctic air that removes the sweat from their brows. The Five Star Diner: Mecca to hungry Jersey folk seeking a cheap but filling meal.
The air was hazy. It had a sticky, good-time feel to it. Girls wearing high heels and short skirts danced with too-old men and flirtatious laughter harmonized the salty tone of the music. Red velvet lined the tables, infused with the stains of old smoke and spilt whisky. ‘Make it a double.’ The tall man