William lived alone; everyone he loved was gone. That’s what happens when you make it to ninety-seven. As snow fell on Christmas Eve, he woke with a start. The love of his life, Eleanor, stood before him. So did the rest of his family. William smiled, the world turning white.
“When did he get here?” the taller of the two men asked, pulling a hefty book off the shelf. “A few minutes ago.” “How’d he go?” “Plane, small-engine.” “Shit. All alone?” The shorter man nodded. “Yep.” “The fool — he’s early. Look.” He pointed at Gregory Donahue, D.O.D. — May 28th, 2064.
Good news! On December 6th, my short story “Charlie” was published by Emerge Literary Journal in their sixteenth issue. I am grateful to have been included with so many other excellent writers. “Charlie” originated from a Writer’s Digest photo prompt. I never ended up submitting my story to the magazine (missed the deadline, oops), butContinue reading ““Charlie” has been published by Emerge Literary Journal”
I have some exciting news! “The World is Ending and I Forgot My Grocery List” was published earlier today by Free Flash Fiction. I’m incredibly excited that this dark, quirky story has a home. If you have two minutes, please give it a read and let me know what you think! All the best, Justin
He was trapped inside his own body and mind — the world obscured in a dark shroud of mystery. But when he heard music, everything came alive in brilliant landscapes of color. Mountains, forests, and oceans appeared before him, breaking his chains, sweeping him into this alternate reality — this immaculate universe.
Uncle Joe loved the rain. It was only fitting that on the day of his funeral the skies opened up. As the trumpeter played “Taps” and umbrellas flipped inside out from the whipping wind, I knew without a doubt he was smiling, laughing down at us – soaking it all in.
After winter’s thaw, two young sisters muddied their sneakers as they hiked through the woods. One halted. “Forests are like libraries,” she whispered. “Why?” the other asked. “They’re quiet. And you can learn a lot here.” They walked on, fascinated by this newfound world — this beautiful discovery in their backyard.
He looked high, low — all around. For years he searched in unlikely places, always hoping truth would rear its ugly head. On his deathbed, he called his children close: he had finally found it. “Time,” he whispered. “It’s all we’ll ever have.” Though his had ended, the moment was eternal.
When the sun faded, we knew the world would harden — as would its people. We were wrong. Old Ms. Tristan brought us in and tried to keep us warm. She stoked the fire, but it was only a matter of time before the cold and dark enveloped everyone and everything.
Grandpa Al radioed coordinates during the Korean War. He was quiet, loved his Yankees, and sipped O’Doul’s in the summertime. He had a fake leg and owned a ukulele, too – A sweet, beautiful instrument boxed up in his basement. I can see him now. He’s smiling. Sipping. Strumming and plucking.