Tag: Short fiction

Story Time: Homophones

Author Shaun McLaughlin

Homophones

by Shaun J. McLaughlin

“Hey, Ninja Nerd. Where’s my homework?”

Cathy ignored the interruption and continued reading her e-book. She savoured every second of time on the single tree-shaded bench in the barren schoolyard, a rare oasis in their industrial neighborhood. And, she had no need to visually identify the speaker. Everyone at school recognized big Kathy’s snarl.

“Yah, Ninja Nerd. Where’s our homework?”

Cathy shuddered at the ensemble growl of the Swarm, the cabal of tough girls that shadowed Kathy. She had no fear of Kathy one-on-one, despite her reputation for pummelling other students of either gender. Cathy’s black belt gave her the edge she needed—and the first part of her hated nickname. However, she couldn’t take on the Swarm too. She rose as the gang encircled her. Continue reading “Story Time: Homophones”

Story Time: Haole

Author J.L. Murray

by J.L. Murray

The bus is packed. I stand with my shopping bag dangling from my elbow. The old Chinese people look up at me curiously. One old woman points at me and says something to her husband in Chinese, laughing. I’m a novelty. The only Haole. The younger Asians don’t look at me, giving me my privacy. I appreciate it. I mind my own business. When some people get off in Chinatown I sit down next to a small woman with straight black hair. She pulls her purse closer to her body and groans, irritated. I wait for my stop and mind my own business.

I take my kids to the zoo on Saturday. I hate going to Waikiki, but they like the animals. I like them, too, but I don’t like looking at the pink, sweaty people that wave at me like I’m a long, lost friend. I try not to look at them. It doesn’t make sense that I don’t like white people anymore, like it’s myself I’m hating. But they embarrass me, like a relative in a nice restaurant that gets drunk and asks why they gave him two forks. Continue reading “Story Time: Haole”

Story Time: Susanna Mahoney

He came upon a medieval castle…

The Red-Haired Man

by Susanna Mahoney

There was once a lad the villagers nicknamed The Red-Haired Man. He would only come out when he heard a mortal was in trouble. It was rumoured that he was half creature and half-human. His mother had been an Irish lassie of the fairest beauty in the land. She disappeared in the midst of the twilight hours one St. Patrick’s Day, leaving behind a baby boy with shocking red hair, all wild with curls upon curls and eyes as green as the Emerald Isle itself. The village Healer knew this infant was of special quality and she quickly took him under her care. Continue reading “Story Time: Susanna Mahoney“

The Accounting

It is important to stay ‘in shape’ as a fiction writer.  Today, I gave myself the writing prompt “It was done”.  A goal: 500 words. And one hour. Here is the result.

It was done.  Something about the finality was comforting, but it was also terrifying.  It raised the hair on my neck and sent tingling doubts darting like swallows through the darkening of my mind.  My mind.  Oh, I could remember when it had been mine.

It was done.  The gun felt heavy and smoke filtered softly from the short barrel.  The shot had been a surprise.  So fast.  So final.  Weeks and months of agonizing and questioning and wondering if I was mad.  And it was over so quickly.

It was in the things she said!  Hidden, encrypted daggers behind innocent conversation.  And her eyes.  Did I get the message?  Oh yes.  There were nibbling doubts from the beginning.  Maybe I was seeing something that wasn’t there?  Maybe I was becoming a tad forgetful…overworked.  But then she would tweak the paranoia.  Her eyes would twinkle the understanding.  I could never ask about it.  She knew that.  That was her trump card.

Continue reading “The Accounting”