Thursday Night

A few more interesting free fiction items. Some a bit "R" rated, though.

Illustration from The Revelator.







Fiction
@Author's Site: "Last of the Living" by David Moody. [via SF Signal]

"Why are we even bothering when the odds are stacked so high against us? What’s the point? When everything’s lost, why do we keep trying to survive?"

Now Posted: Absent Willow Review - Oct. 2011.
"Witching Weather" by Pamela J. Jessen.

"She wakes to dimmed sunlight, frayed clouds splayed across the sky like ragged muslin sheets. – Alarmed, she steps outside. Expecting molten July, instead she tastes a hint of cool October and sour apple wine. – A confused wind worries the woodbine slumped on her fence, leaves dulled in the muted"

"Time’s End" by Pamela J. Jessen.

"Time unspools and winter becomes autumn becomes summer becomes spring. – My children, long scattered, return to cling to my skirts, impatiently waiting to reenter my womb, to become dreams again. – And I, in my unwithered youth, eagerly seek out my own mother who tugs on her mother’s sleeve."

"The Man of Stars" by Lucy Stone.

"I’m out shopping when I first see him, juggling too many bags on my way back to the car. Footy socks for Tom, a new calculator for Sarah, milk and bread, chicken and chips for dinner with my favourite ice cream for dessert. I pause on the corner, fumbling with my mobile"

"Snake Eyes" by Zeke Jarvis.

"Mr. Stein awoke to find himself tied to a bed. At first, he was hopeful that this was a continuation of whatever drunken games he’d been playing with the young black girl whom he’d bought a few beers the previous night. He’d expected her to be game, with her tits practically falling"

"Sally’s Man" by Milan Smith.

"It started with a walk in the cemetery. Sally had met him after dusk, when the night wind had kicked up, and the smell of rain filled the air. She’d been standing in the yard listening to a bird twitter in a tree, when the man came wandering down the road behind"

"Stephanie in the Church" by Melissa Stanziale.

"Stephanie rushed up the steps that led to the back entrance of the church. Near the top she tripped and almost fell on to the cold, hard pavement. A painful lump formed at the back of her throat, which she tried to swallow back, but her chest tightened, her nose began to tingle"

"The Misadventures of Wart Wafer: The End of the Crimson Circle" by Joshua S. Simpkins.

"Azrael Knightsbane was the last of his kind. The great azure dragon roared and raged in his immense, cavernous lair. Where is my pretty precious! The thought boomed within the ink-black walls of his skull, as his massive barbed tail flattened large piles of gold and jewels with ease. Some thieving"

"Six More Weeks of Winter" by Philip Roberts.

"Before the sun could peek its head out from beneath the horizon on February second, Frank Rouse threw off the covers and pulled himself out of bed. He paused beside it, frowning down, fingers drumming across his hairy gut. He’d taken up jogging in the morning two years prior, or told others"

"In Soul Possession" by C. Kevin Barrett.

Andrew Randall was not happy with the afterlife. “It just makes sense to have some sort of training program or at the very least an orientation,” Andrew said as he sifted through the cardboard box in his lap. In it was an assortment of crystals, metal rods, and pieces of carved

"The Last Dragon" by M.C. Elam.

"I am the last dragon. I hide in places no man walks. My sweet world, ravished now by callous deeds, lies nearly barren in the wake of his greed. My crystal rivers grow dull with filth, once clear sky made dirty by the economy of his hand. His days are numbered."

"Fillet of Cirrhosis" by Jacob Jacobson.

“Wallet and watch buddy, c’mon, don’t make me drop you!” Winston felt the blade pressing against his neck, a trembling hand controlling it. The mugger reeked of booze and shook like he was detoxing from something. Great, another fucking boozer…was the primary thought going through Winston’s mind as he quickly started to

"Disconnected" by William C. Rasmussen.

"Pulling his SUV into his garage, Scott McBride glanced at the TomTom mounted on the dash and shook his head. Apparently, his destination—“Home”—was still 1.2 miles away. He chuckled as he killed the engine, climbed out of the car, and shut the door. That stupid GPS system, he thought, a marvel"

"Cats" by Jake Walters

"The fort, built by two eleven-year-old boys, stood against a fallen tree near a murky body of water they called the pond, where sometimes they cast bait, not even knowing if there were fish to be caught. The fort was what good forts were to boys their age—a place to play cards"

"Just A Closer Walk With Thee" by Frank Stascik.

"The first time Caroline tried it, it was with a cricket She’d been sitting underneath the apple tree in the front yard, crying, when Billy shuffled up behind her and put his tiny, frail hand on the top of her head. She heard the wheeze as Billy inhaled, and when he spoke"

"Warnings" by Alice King.

"Skeletal branches drip with moisture as I make my way to the bus stop. The last withered leaves crackle wetly beneath my feet, trapped between my shoes and the pavement. The rain falls all around me, a steady cloying drizzle. It drips dismally through my hair, plastering it to my skull in"

"Nexxus Point" by Sean Jones.

"Portia blinked. She took a step back as the teleporter light went from amber to red. Surprised, she realised that she had never seen a teleporter do that before. The lights on the top of the teleporter only ever went green and amber. Green was safe to travel, and amber, someone"

"Waiting" by Kyle H. Patrick

"Part One Cardigan opened his eyes, which was odd because he was pretty sure he was supposed to be dead. He sat up and felt the metal springs of a mattress poking into his leg. A quick glance showed him that he was in a small room, like a doctor’s examination"

"The Last Ereph" by JD Byrne.

"The cobblestones that paved these byzantine back alleys were not as clean as they appeared. Kol discovered this when his left foot, rather than pivot him crisply to the right towards the open alleyway, instead slid out from under him. He did not fall. He managed to catch himself with his right"

Now Posted: The Revelator #1 [via SF Signal]
"Nick Kaufmann, Last of the Red-Hot Superwhores" by Nick Mamatas.

"Every farm­boy was a red-hot super­whore once upon a time…"

"Gaslight" by Jeffrey Ford.

"We first heard about the child one evening at The Mon­day After­noon Club from old Mat­ter­son, last heir to an empire of sweatshops …"