We are delighted to announce the publication of our apocalyptic anthology; Annihilation Radiation. Paperback and eBook available now. Featuring the finalists of STORGY Magazines’s Annihilation Radiation Short Story Competition the Annihilation Radiation Anthology contains 18 short stories by an array of talented apocalyptic authors. Zip up your hazmat suit and hunker in your bunker with Book
“From this evening I must give the British people a very simple instruction – you must stay at home. Because the critical thing we must do is stop the disease spreading between households.” Marcy had one eye on Boris Johnson and one eye on the Instagram stories of a guy she’d met on Tinder and
Dr Beamish, Since yours is the name on the paperwork I was given I am assuming that it is to you that I should address this document. Not with any great enthusiasm, I must confess, but Dr Hansted insisted that a commitment to keeping a journal was an essential prerequisite for acceptance onto this trial.
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Bastards all. Self-righteous, narcissistic, self-pitying, craven, cringing, oleaginous, vile, dribbling, deluded bastards. They all think they should win; they all think they deserve to win. And here they are. And here I am. We’re sitting on a platform; we’re waiting to read. They will read from the ghastly excretions that they have forced before the
When I wake to find my left ear missing, Mother tells me not to worry. “I’ll sew you a new one,” she mimes, hands imitating a needle and thread. I shrug. I don’t mind losing another ear. All I need is a good eye and a steady hand to hold my paintbrush. I’ve survived three
Some people are open books, easy to read with their pages displayed for everyone to see; others are closed books, hiding behind thick, heavy covers, protecting them from scrutiny. She was neither. She was a canvas, a cloth filled with a myriad of images and colours, like a Picasso or a Dali. Only the most
Joe levelled the shotgun at the two men approaching on horseback and tried to hold steady. He’d shot bottles and jackrabbits but never a man, though they weren’t to know that. They were going to see him pointing his gun and think he was an old hand. The men were hazy in the heat. They
People nowadays think that scientists exist to instruct them; poets, musicians, etc. to give them pleasure. The idea that these have something to teach them – that does not occur to them.
Ackley surveyed the plot, his narrow eyes glancing over each of the men hauling bricks and mixing the mortar. This will be a fine church, he tells himself, a very fine church. His gaze landed upon Carlyle, who seemed to be idling once again. Carlyle stood with his back to the plot looking across the
