Posts Tagged ‘ Fiction ’

“Spa-ntaneity,” by Meagan Noel Hart

Aug 20th, 2023 | By

Doris straightened her jacket and patted her curls. Potential customers filled the plush white armchairs before her, buzzing like curious flies, all lured in by her fancy paper fliers and the promise of free pastries. All that was left was convincing them to subscribe for Spa Today Away’s Spontaneity Vacation.

That woman in the front row with the face tattoo? Doris would seduce her with the concept: vacations so spontaneous they could happen at literally any time.



“Pocket Monsters (Silver Edition),” by Corey Miller

Aug 20th, 2023 | By

The morning I am to begin my journey and receive my starter Pokémon from Professor Oak, I wake up sweaty from a dream. In the dream I am a Psyduck holding my head; yellow, dumb, and in pain. The other eleven-year-olds mock me, calling me a runt like they do in real life because I have to stand on tippy toes to reach the Pokéshop counter when I purchase ethers and potions for Mother.



“Leg Shark,” by Maxwell Shepherd

Apr 20th, 2023 | By

They both cleared some space for the runner to pass by them and looked down the path waiting for them to round a corner of thick forest. But what rounded the corner was no jogger. Or, technically it was, because it was jogging. But it was no human jogger. No, instead it was a 25-foot great white shark. The massive white shark was propelled swiftly down the path on two very toned human legs clad in running shorts and Nike sneakers. Both of their eyes grew wide with terror. Chet’s darkest dreams had come to pass.



“E.T.” by Linda Lowe

Apr 20th, 2023 | By

We all wondered what in the world when a spaceship materialized over the cul-de-sac, unfurling a rope ladder like a foreign flag, both sturdy and friendly.



“Thank You, Lil Wayne,” by Alex Dermody

Apr 20th, 2023 | By

Behind St. John’s Pediatric Hospital, a crowd of red-eyed men and women gathered around a large metal box, watching as Amanda Nunn fed the Waynerator+ the fuel it required to create electricity:

“You a beaver allergic to wood,” Amanda said, her voice hoarse. “Call that a dam shame.”