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Write a story within a story within a story within a ...

Posted in Fiction on Feb 17, 2023

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✍️ 55 stories

The Tragic Death of a Boy on the George V Bridge

Submitted to Contest #186

The doorbell rang, not once but three times, and Clementine’s heart echoed the dum-da-dum gong. Uninvited, Rosalva Yozhikova had arrived, leaving Clementine with a wild urge to flee. But somehow, she must convince Auntie Rosa to never unblock Ethan’s powers. The Boy Without Magic—Clementine’s twelve year old son—must not regain his gifts.    Smoothing her skirt, Clementine fought for calm. At age thirty-three, she refused to be intimidated by her childhood mentor. She opened the door. Auntie Rosa appeared fragile with her bent...

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Twenty-Three, Fifty-One

Submitted to Contest #186

Age: 23/51 Because he was my physics teacher, I was now in grad school. I said so in my application - my love of physics was sparked and nurtured by Mr. Turner from the moment I stepped into his class. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know what I would have majored in undergrad, if I would have done research on semiconductors, if I would have pursued my PhD. When he was my physics teacher, Mr. Turner knew how to put on a show. He shot an air bazooka at students who said that air didn’t have mass - students would watch slack-jawed as a ball ...

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HIS VOICE AMONG THE STARS

Submitted to Contest #186

Prologue From the depths of ancient star clusters to the far-flung galaxies at the edge of the cosmos, I, Lord of Creation, He Who Causes To Be, shall make this universe my mercy seat, a residence without restriction to a single place, to be a life among fiery births and contortions in the fabric of space itself.  Omnipresence is a state of being no mortal sentient can enumerate or calculate with any tangible result.  Time is never the essence; I can see the temporal continuums folding in and out of themselves like an ever-revealin...

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Bookends

Submitted to Contest #186

Nothing was better at the end of a long day than a glass of scotch and a good book next to a warm fire. Gregory was very much looking forward to it. He locked the door to his used bookstore, The Second Page and strolled through his shop scrutinizing titles. He lingered on a thriller for a moment, eyeing the creases in its spine, before moving on to the next shelf. He did a double take at a smaller sized book placed on a stack next to the shelves. Gregory didn’t know ever book in his store personally but this one was unique enough he would...

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To Live A Life Posthumously

Submitted to Contest #186

cw: Mild swearing, and mentions of deathTHE BEGINNINGThe casket was oak with a mahogany finish. A yellow cut sunflower lay haphazardly between the fingers of the body, the most colour offered in the small run down church. Only three people entered the room. Only three took seats in the front isle, chipped gas cans and matchbox's in hand. The uniformity of the black outfits made the room feel smaller, duller. The only respite was the small almost seamless lines of dark grey thread interwoven into the fabric of each person's blazer. An imperfe...

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The Book Kate Wrote for Beverly

Submitted to Contest #186

Maggie couldn't breathe. The longer she remained trapped inside this confined space the worse it became. Her heart beat louder than it ever had before and Maggie wasn't able to concentrate because it drowned out everything else. There wasn't enough air. Escape was everything. Maggie rolled onto her back and positioned herself so that her legs were higher than her head. She used all her body weight to kick at the object that was currently keeping her prisoner. One, Two, Three powerful blows to the black monster and then one enormous lunge...

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THE DREAM OF DEATH

Submitted to Contest #186

THE DREAM OF DEATH I was in Delhi working for an MNC. One evening I met Amresh shopping in the market. We decided to have dinner together. After dinner, we started discussing various matters. “ Amresh, do you know? I can predict the death of a person?” I said. "Come on. What nonsense! “ Amresh slighted me. “Really yaar. If I look into the eyes of the person, I can tell when he is going to die.” I said confidently. “Okay. Look into my eyes and tell me about my death.” “No jokes. Why should we try out this unholy power that I have got?” “No,...

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The Great Human Recollection

Submitted to Contest #186

It was raining outside, pretty unusual, considering it ought to be bright and sunny typically during this time of the year. Johnny seems not too bothered at the sight of the heavy spell outside. Poor lad…if not for the power outage, his library of video games would be giving him company. And he’s a grateful boy, not wishing for anything else more than those collections that he already possess and cherishes. Jeff wanted to make lunch, he felt it’s been a while since he cooked anything. I remember the last time he cooked. Pizza Margarita. ...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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Deader Yet: A Mike Dodge Story Within a Story Within a Story

Submitted to Contest #186

“Yeah, I remember the little asshole.”It wouldn’t have won me a Pulitzer or a National Book Award or even 112th Place in the Bad Hemingway Contest, which ended in 2005.But it was enough of an opener for the half-dozen or so writers left in the Press Room to turn from their late afternoon deadlines, and for a couple to grab a now-lukewarm Coke and join Rich Hawksley and I at the table.This was a year after United Airlines stopped underwriting bad Hemingway, and the National Agricultural Federation Annual Policy and Bad Motivational Speakers C...

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The Greatest Fairy Tale of All Time

Submitted to Contest #186

The Fairy Books sat in a pile on Marcus’s nightstand. The colored spines stacked on top of each other looked like the arcs of a rainbow.He pulled his comforter up to his chin. His father sat in a chair next to the bed, flipping through the Red Fairy Book. Some of the worn pages had broken from the spine.“Come on,” he said, “I haven’t read any of these to you in a while.”“No,” Marcus said. “I want a new story. We’ve gone through all those before.”Marcus’s father set the book down. He rubbed his forehead with his ...

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Thirst of Competition

Submitted to Contest #186

I had been staring at the screen for hours. TAKE A SNIPPET. MAKE IT SLOW. MAKE IT DIFFERENT. EXPERIMENT. My professor’s instructions. Vague. Embarrassingly difficult. If I didn’t pass this assignment I’d lose out on the opportunity of my dreams. Between Luis and I, only one of us could fill the empty spot at the most prestigious writing conference in New York City. And he was a far more productive writer than I was.I hadn’t changed a thing about the snippet in my novel. It’s an important turning point, a heart-wrenching death. I bl...

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Child of the gun

Submitted to Contest #186

Gunfire went off as bullets rained like snowfall and all that could be heard were the pops, bangs and the frequent groans of men who had been shot from either faction. The floor was dusty red as the splatter of bullet shells, gunpowder, and blood stained it. all I could see was a spinning room as I covered the bloody gaping hole from my side that I had just discovered before I coughed up blood. Then I realized I had been shot. There was a tingling feeling before the pain felled me and once my head hit the floor, all I saw were glimpses of Ir...

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The Center of the Universe

Submitted to Contest #186

This story contains mental health issues and adult language; discussions about drug use and sexual references.I cast a spell on men with such limited vision that despite being the Roman goddess of architecture, they created an arena and train station that spans Midtown Manhattan with all the grace of concrete herpes."You created this ugly place, so dwell here you shall."So, dwell I do. Father gave me wings. He made me long for things, like a moth to a flame. Trite, I know, but truth is often trite. Symbolism, too, with this whole wings- as-c...

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Moscow, Revisited

Submitted to Contest #186

Sofia has been at home in the 14th floor high rise apartment stroking her daughter Anna’s hair while idly watching the evening when she saw the news story about her mother had been arrested by the Russian government. She could barely believe it when she saw the photo of her mom flash upon the screen. This had been the woman who had banished just a few years ago and kicked her out of her home as a teenager. There was no denying that this was her mother though.  The news station had used the photo of her dressed up as “Elsie the clown” – ...

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VOICES

Submitted to Contest #186

I’m hungry. Another voice? It didn’t matter. The mouth of the cave called louder—enticing me, willing me to enter. Perhaps I wanted to yield to its familiar pull. Perhaps I wanted to resist. It was too late. Darkness clasped my hand and drew me inside, away from the day, into bereft  places—into the first chamber. And how well I knew it! Here, the remaining light diffused into graphite, etching the cave’s disfigurements, like pockmarks on a tortured cheek. In sombreness, I caressed the blistering wounds. But no! As their ruptured e...

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