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Latest Stories

October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

The Moon Is A Wanderer Too

The rain came down like broken glass and the city was a wound, bleeding light and exhaust and the smell of food frying in oil that’s been used too many times. I was walking nowhere, which is the only place I ever go, and the streets were full of saints and…
October 17, 2025
Mystery Stories Brittany Szekely

The House On Wren Street

Notes: A mother rebuilding her life after domestic violence uncovers a chilling secret in her new home Isla didn’t notice the house was watching her until the second week. At first, it was just creaks in the floorboards, the way the hallway light flickered…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

Pee Girl Gets The Milk

He met her on a Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday that feels like a leftover Monday, stale and gray and hungover from the weekend’s sins. Her name was Lita, or maybe Rita, or maybe she just said that to keep things simple. She had a cigarette halo, a ring of smoke…
October 17, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Lie To Me More

La vida es una mentira; Miénteme más,Que me hace tu maldad feliz.(Life is a lie; Lie to me more,For your wickedness makes me happy.)Armando Domínguez Borras, “Miénteme” (bolero) Out of a habit ingrained over fifty-odd years of hard work, Timmy McFarlane got up…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Unseen Listener Of Moscow

It was 11:55 p.m. when he stepped out of Moscow’s Lefortovo Metro Station. His whole body ached; his legs trembled. His eyes were sleepy. He felt surrounded by unknown souls, all in a hurry to reach their destinations. He looked at the disappearing faces for a…
October 17, 2025
General Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Rearranging The Brain Furniture

She called herself Lark, though her name was probably something dull like Emily or Claire. She was nineteen, maybe twenty, with a face that looked like it had been drawn in charcoal, smudged eyes, a mouth that never quite closed, and hair that hung like wet…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

FCAWF

She called herself Moth and said she liked the way they flew into flames without flinching. Her real name was Emily, but that was buried under layers of eyeliner, cigarette burns, and a voice that could cut glass. She was thirty, somewhat immature, vindictive…
October 17, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Kashif Imdad

Femtoria

In a dystopian future, the world had transformed into a society that was unrecognisable to those who had lived in the previous century. The nation of Femtoria stood as a beacon of prosperity, A female supremacist regime, had risen to power, enforcing a strict…
September 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

Half an Hour to Fourteen

Last night she lay on her bed with a curly-haired doll close to her chest. She was looking at the clock hanging over the door. Only half an hour was left —her life’s digit would turn from thirteen to fourteen, a change that felt like a heavy blow to the…
September 27, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

Till We Meet Again

“Would you like more coffee?”The server in the orange apron lowered the pot, but Cath muttered, “No, thank you.”Her voice trembled, and the server busied herself with the next table. Outside the window, fog enveloped Waterloo Bridge. The morning was quiet,…
September 23, 2025
Flash Fiction Leroy B. Vaughn

Another Farewell To Arms Reunion

We were sitting in a little café in Wickenburg Arizona eating lunch when my wife looked at me and said, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to this reunion after you told all of your buddies that there was not a chance in hell that you would go.” “I know…
September 23, 2025
General Stories William Kitcher

A Political Solution

The Rt. Honorable Leader/Head of Council/First Governor/Chief Minister/Premier/President/Chancellor/First Minister/Party Secretary-General entered his office, and looked out the open window. It was a beautiful sunny cool day, and the cherry blossoms shone in…

We had always agreed that if anything bad were to happen, we would go to my in-law’s place near Chama. It was a large log cabin located on a ridge overlooking the Brazos River and completely off the grid: solar panels for power, rain catch barrels for water, and cast iron stove for heat. Low population density and the remote location in a densely forested area made the cabin ideal for withstanding any number of natural or man-made disasters.

So when the news began airing information regarding a rabies epidemic and then went on to report about a strange outbreak sweeping across the east coast, we had a plan. The wife and I loaded the kids in the car and headed to Chama.

It took a bit longer than expected. Her parents and grandmother decided they were coming too. We also had to wait for my dad to drive up from Albuquerque. All told, I think it took us about four hours to drive from Bernalillo to Chama. We ended up going the back way through the Llaves Valley. It was probably a smart decision given traffic along Interstate 25, but really I just chose the route because I liked the drive.

We had stocked up on canned goods, camping gear, and warm clothes. These were all things, we typically brought with us when we went to the cabin, but considering we were not sure how long we’d be gone, we took a lot.

We also brought with us an assortment of firearms. My father-in-law taught security and conceal-carry permit courses, so we had an assortment of weapons and then there was the hunting gear. Total, I think we brought with us two dozen firearms: rifles, shot guns, pistols, and even a couple hunting bows.

The canned goods didn’t last long, but that wasn’t a big deal. There was a lot of game in the woods. It wasn’t just the deer and elk. We hunted the cattle and sheep too. You would be amazed at how much livestock was left to graze in the forests. The domesticated animals were the easiest to kill. A lot of the time they sought us out. I think they thought we were ranchers coming to feed them.

It took some getting used to. After a while, we didn’t have grain or fruit, but there was an abandoned raspberry farm a couple miles down the road. We could go there and get berries seasonally. There are always other foods in the forest, if you know where to look. Believe it or not, just about every portion of a prickly pear is edible.

Zombies? Never saw a one. Really, never saw much of anyone. Now don’t get me wrong, we had our moments of danger. There was a blizzard which hit us pretty hard and a couple wildfires that came close to burning down the cabin at one time or another, but we ended up alright. I think like a lot of westerners, we managed.

About the Author:

Matthew J. Barbour is a South(west)ern Gothic Speculative Fiction writer living with his wife and three children in Bernalillo, New Mexico. When he is not writing fiction, Mr. Barbour manages Jemez Historic Site in Jemez Springs, New Mexico and writes for a number of regional newspapers, including the Red Rocks Reporter and the Sandoval Signpost.

About the Story:

Managing the Zombie Apocalypse like most zombie stories is less horror and more magical realism/social commentary. It was inspired by a simple question. What would you do?

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