Short Stories
These short stories are available in their entirety and are licensed under Creative Commons license: you can read them, you can print them for personal use, but you can't sell them or take credit for them.
Recent Works
Days Of Swine and Roses
Alena took a deep breath. "I'm not going on a date with Chad Thurman."
A deafening silence descended on the dining room. Mother's face assumed a thoughtful expression. No doubt she was already stringing persuasive and weighty logical arguments in favor of the date in her head. To Mother no was simply a yes that hadn't had a chance to hear her out.
A Mere Formality
Sexually explicit terms, must be at least 18 to read
The alarm chimed, sending tiny shivers through Deirdre's fingers, coated in liquid interface. Five minutes to the opening speech. "All right, all right." She shrugged the lead-grey metal off her hand and caught her reflection in the mirror. The hair. She had forgotten about her hair.
Her gown looked fantastic. She loved this dress; the cut and color suited her: a shimmering grey-black that caught her breasts, wound about her waist and fell down in clean lines to brush the floor. Unfortunately, the gown alone wouldn't do it. Her hair set atop her head in an ugly pile, and it was too late to do anything about it. It's your fault, Robert, she thought, pulling out the pins one by one. She dragged the brush through her hair and inspected the result.
Hideous.
A Small Blue Key
The everything drawer jammed, one-third open. Marina rattled it, trying to shake loose whatever kept it from sliding out. In less than thirty six hours the entire family would converge on the house. The kitchen looked like a war zone, the living room was a mess, and she still hadn't purchased the Zinfandel to marinate the leg of lamb. The garlic cloves had sprouted too, so she would have to pick up some.
The drawer resisted shaking. Exasperated, she stepped back, crossed her arms on her chest, and glared at it.
"Open!"
Something snapped with a sharp wooden crack and the drawer flew open, its rollers slamming against the wooden frame with a shudder. A small object shot out and hit her between the eyes. "Ow!"
"What did you break?" Nikolai asked from the living room.
"Nothing!"
Adjuster's Dilemma
The kid behind the counter nudged the garbage cage, containing three wardergs, and mumbled in practiced chant, "Welcome to Frosty's, how may I help you, lord or lady?" His gaze never left the calico array of ice-cream buckets under the glass.
"Waffled cone, double dip, vanilla," London said, pronouncing the words with crisp exactness.
The look in his eyes said, "Please don't hurt me."