George picked up a can when he felt the soft static in the air. The key was under one of these; he was certain he’d find it. It had only been an hour since the last time he’d needed it—surely even he wouldn’t misplace it so easily.
But each can would invariably come up short. It wasn’t underneath the soda can. It wasn’t beneath the can of bug spray. It wasn’t here; it wasn’t there.
In frustration, he cast out his hand—scattering the metal everywhere. The sound was deafening, those cheap materials crashing against the wooden table. Continue reading
During the job interview, it became apparent that the applicant sitting across from Stephen was melting. Something black and syrupy was leaking from the corner of his eye and was dribbling down his chin.
It took a moment of composure, but Stephen had been interviewing people for the past ten hours and momentum got him to the next inquiry.
“So, do you have anything you’d like to ask me?” Continue reading
The soft smell of dust was the only thing he could perceive for a solid minute. Then, with a great rustle, he rose. His feet were sore from disuse, as was his back.
“What is… I was working on something, yeah?” Continue reading
They hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. Someone mentioned him at a dinner party, and it led to them visiting his house the next day. His butler let them in when they asked what had happened. Continue reading
It did nothing but listen. Sitting there, glowing with a faint level of power, it listened to mankind. Throughout all recorded time, it stood as a stalwart ear for the world’s secrets. It pondered and gleamed what humankind did not know even about itself. Continue reading
Above me, the tree is letting loose its streamers, its confetti. It’s drifting down the crinkled orange leaves and depositing them upon the water. I take a long sigh, not in frustration, but a release of everything that is not this peaceful moment.
My phone rings gently against my hip, and I check who’s calling. Continue reading
In the water, something swam along. It was entirely and fully unaware of its position—but it lived it all the same.
In the air, a person with not much to do and little interest in matters of her own life walked along, looking at her feet. Continue reading
He smiled, and it was like he had sprouted daggers from his face. They slid out from his gums and overlapped with glistening white edges. His throat elongated, and down the layers was yet more pointing, growing, needle-tip blades. Continue reading
His eyes were slimy things, goop dripping down upon his chin from those misty globules. He stumbled around, unable to see past the sheen of pure mucus. Continue reading
The smell awoke Kenny. He got groggily out of bed, the clock on his nightstand showing well past 3 am. His boyfriend was still asleep.
“What the fuck is she doing…” Kenny muttered. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.
The bustle became obvious then: the sound of splashing, the oven door being aggressively handled. Continue reading
“Where are you going?” he asked the girl.
She glanced back at him and rolled her eyes. “You won’t believe me if I tell you. Easier to show.”
“I mean, what happened back there with the—uh—”
“Malforms,” she instantly replied. Continue reading
Every night I see a pit of bubbling black. It is a brief dream, and I am standing above it, looking down. It pops and the air escaping makes words in languages I’ve never heard. I spend each morning researching them, trying to understand what they mean. Continue reading
With a slight chortle on her lips, she read the words. Then looked back up.
“That’s not a word; that’s not English.”
The deity lowered the glasses he wore for fashion only and cocked up an eyebrow. “Oh, do you think you know the reality of the situation? I was there when language was formed—I saw the very concept spring forth.”
“Still not English,” she said, crossing her arms. She took a sip from her tenth cup of coffee. Continue reading
Apply directly to the head, the bottle instructed. It will cure what ails you. Continue reading
Brandon Scott realized that he had written, by now, so many odd stories that he started these microfictions with simple nonsense words, and then tried to work them backward. Today’s brain bubbling bramble was something called “Cajun Bacon,” and he assumed it was a story about some type of spicy bacon, or something. Continue reading