Evan Charles

“Manufactured” by Evan Charles

 Travis sat in the comfortable company chair, adjusting his lucky tie and wiping the sweat on his manilla folder. He set it on the faux Mahogany coffee table, hoping his matches would like what they read in his resume and cover letter. No one yet sat opposite the fresh graduate in the room that sparkled white like toothpaste; he'd gladly wait. Strumming his fingers on the table, Travis didn't know what to expect from this, from a preliminary partner interview. His neck hitched as his head looked to the door, willing it to swing ope...

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“Welcome to the Castle” by Evan Charles

Abraham Poulter, exhausted from traveling from London to Chicago in near-record time, could not find an adequate hotel to his liking, and any respectable establishment he happened upon, he found already at capacity. His mustachioed mug would bristle at the lower class, turning him away. No amount of haggling seemed to sway the Yankees; he respected their integrity, at least. Pleasantly surprised, Mr. Poulter's attention lingered on the many lavish decorations accenting the uncultured American lobbies and foyers: smooth marble pillars wrapped...

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“Lessons Learned” by Evan Charles

"You sure you don't wanna come along? Julie's coming," Peter mischievously tempted, arousing Gary to look up from his graphite-smeared notes.  Gary smiled ruefully at his dorky dormmate, watching Peter sway and jig in a horrid plaid and too-short khakis to entice the Experimental Psych major out from his chair. He squirmed in his uncomfortable plastic seat, his concentration now broken from three hours of studying, noticing the swamp of his backside and the stiff ache of his locked muscles. Three finals tomorrow, but the thought of dan...

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“Surpassing Status Quo” by Evan Charles

The morning's dew softened the siege trenches, muddying Eoval's, his master's, and many other joyous knights and squire's boots on the short walk to accept Tellenmarke's formal surrender. Numerous white flags snapped wildly atop the high, never-before-breached walls of the Secessionist's strongest fortress in the east; the King warned the siege would last the better part of a year, if not longer. The citadel surrendered in two weeks before either side drew blood.  Eoval welcomed the tranquility relief granted, a sense he grew accustome...

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“Renewed Grief” by Evan Charles

Aaron made another grave mistake. Take it from someone who lost their world - no one gets years left with loved ones. No, they net a few days each year for a decade or two: birthdays, the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Life doesn't grant you and your parents, siblings, and lifelong friends years. Life laughs at you and gives you days. So the next time you forget to call a loved one after getting distracted by something asinine: go fuck yourself.  The river, its churnings illuminated with a ghastly glow from the full moon, b...

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“Don't Question It” by Evan Charles

 Parking his burgundy clunker of a Civic against a log serving as a parking stop, Nate Mathews stepped outside to the sound of the breeze brushing through the park's pine trees; their needles not yet succumbing to autumn, it looked like the trees waved to greet him. He zipped up his windbreaker and fought to feel anything but melancholy today. For Gala's sake, Nate promised to come here. He just wished she could, too. Gala's passing, her death, came on suddenly. Thank God, nothing violent, but a swift and terrible end nonetheless - a r...

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“Baneful Boon” by Evan Charles

"To be clear, it's a dragon. Not a drakon?" Kien made a point to emphasize the consonant and distinguish between the intellectual flying lizard and its witless counterpart that spewed acid instead of fire. He hunted wyrms, dragonets, and even managed to trap and kill an adult wyvern. A drakon he would not dare cross.  A dragon, however, possessed intelligence. Kien could not best its might nor its ancient wisdom. He, however, felt the early sprouts of a plan take that confronted neither.  Harumphing, the ruffian sitting befo...

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“Naïve by definition” by Evan Charles

Eyes fluttering open, a stranger, even to himself, thought himself blind when darkness embraced his first moments of consciousness. Fright in a stupor, he made to move but found his hands bound in a hardy rope behind a wooden pole to which his legs also felt attached. Headfog disappearing, he began to struggle. He labored against the bindings until his wrists and ankles began to burn from the friction. Starting to hyperventilate, he tried to recall how he became ensnared in this predicament.  And then he realized he remembered nothing....

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“Hellbound” by Evan Charles

Trigger warning - This short story mentions suicide and suicidal ideation.  Maya Wittle shook the bottle's last droplets into her cloudy, cracked shot glass and chuckled ruefully. She downed the liquor. Still sober, she felt the flames licking at the back of her throat; she choked on the burn and the afterthought of finishing her last luxury. She wiped her mouth on dirty flannel and laid her forehead on the back of her forearm. An appropriate 'dinner' after such an awful day, she thought to herself. A fresh batch of envelopes in h...

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“Baggage” by Evan Charles

The Nizar family - Rafael, Diana, and Balei - ignored the crystal clear ocean lapping at the manicured white beaches of a sun-kissed island of greenery and a lone, imposing mountain from the windows of their descending private jet. The magical paradise halo lost its effect on the fifth exotic vacation thirteen years ago. Balei still ensured her due fun, however. After their flight attendant asked to turn on her airplane mode for the third time, Balei looked away from her phone - for the first time since departing Portugal - to catch her pare...

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“Advancing Impediment ” by Evan Charles

Input: ...  Gerome counted the caret blinking, that little line lazily winking where he could type anything, and the machine would return whatever he wanted. Assuming he possessed enough imagination to think for the device, that is.  'Design new model.'  Confirmed. Use previous Model 74 as the baseline?: The capable software could presume a few things for him, like correcting his math, automating trivial tasks, and even simulating emotional affect in different environments. When someone haphazardly called the ea...

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“A Parting Pair” by Evan Charles

Submitted to Contest #211

Tabitha Wilson regretted not getting decaf and watched her coffee cool, worrying what numb nerves would do to her mental state with caffeine. Come to her senses, perhaps. But when the barista mentioned today's special Tabs felt that odd social anxiety of wanting to avoid disappointing their server - a stranger. Looking down into her cup, she felt her upper lip sweat from the steam of an untouched double-whipped something or other. At the very least, the blessed aroma of roast coffee beans captivated her; she could almost hear a smooth jazz e...

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“Air of Silence” by Evan Charles

  The silicon-oxygen mask fogged at Deena's exhaling, but the archeologist felt breathless when she and her team beheld what they unearthed. Sediment-granite powder from the drilled opening drifted away from the clearing and when visibility returned her expectations of what this expedition would entail blew away with the dust. Deena didn't know what to prepare for, not on the other side of a smooth brick-red stone wall in an otherwise unsuspecting natural cave formation. She couldn't prepare for a discovery of a lifetime. An underground...

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“Silver Spoon” by Evan Charles

Submitted to Contest #208

All my life, I hated the silver spoon in my mouth; it felt more like a collar polished dry, rubbing at scabs on my neck. Its hold made it hard to breathe, worse to speak my mind. Took me a while to recognize the loathing, but therapy brought clarity. Yes, I resented my privileged life since I rarely got to enjoy my life. Just thinking that feels liberating because everyone knows how challenging that golden-ticketed life weighs on the wealthy. I won't begrudge those who look at my pompous prick peers in frustrated envy - most of tho...

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“Helpful Manipulations” by Evan Charles

      Scrutinizing every word and the bubbling body language of Lexi, Alyssa Mayfield discerned nothing less than sincere appreciation from her client. Grinning wholeheartedly at the music theory major’s enthusiasm, Alyssa’s cheek muscles felt stiff from the one-sided session of the latest week’s outstanding progress. The therapist waited patiently, however, with eyes like that of a hungry feline for how the carefully planted nudge played such a pivotal role in Lexi’s progress. But the relief never came. Noticin...

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