by J. S. Martin

I can't remember the first time I realized I was dying. I had known for quite some time that I had a liver disease that was slowly dragging my soul toward the inevitable. But like many people who are staring into the eyes of mortality, I chose to play the martyr and went on a binge.

Still Life with Suffering Woman

by BadDreamRepairman

It was a large, rectangular, clear plastic box, held up horizonally at chest-level by four plastic posts -- and there was something inside. At first, Lenny thought it was a collection of manikin limbs, but as he stepped closer, he saw that it was a complete human form, a young female, a life-size doll perhaps, dressed in what must have once been expensive white lingerie, but now soiled and torn...

Empty Sandals

by Stik Mann

You look to one side and then to the other. Where there are hands there are also heads, heads that belong to the hands. These heads do not speak. Neither do they see. Sunken sockets shadow their eyes. The back of the head that speaks bobs about in front of you. It mumbles constantly; of crime, of justice, Divine justice, crimes divine...


by BadDreamRepairman

"Babe, listen," said Ernest, lowering his voice. "This is an amazingly mature act for her. Mandy has avoided that thing ever since we got it. And you know, fear of androids can develop into a very serious problem." He offered her his hand. "C'mon.... Shhh."

Escape Attempt

by Stik Mann

He turned and shined the dying light down the gradual incline from which he had come. Water, cold water, slowly rose and rounded the distant corner, icy and black like death, oily swirls and dry black dust riding atop its surface. It swallowed up rusted pipes and shattered dynamite boxes, obscuring the past, denying him any hope of retreat.

The Final Offering

by Stik Mann

The Scribe's job was to watch the tiny bell that was supported by thin bars a few feet above the ceremonial site, to make sure that the string that ran from the bell to the small pipe in the ground didn't become tangled, and to dutifully record the exact time the bell issued its tiny ding.


Hyperizons: Hypertext Fiction

Spatiality in Interactive Fiction
and the Cyberspace Novel

Jon-K Adams - Node9 3

Essays on the Craft of Dramatic Writing

WeirdWebWriting Projects

The Transformation Story Archive
Looseleaf by Dan Leone, San Francisco Bay Guardian

Internet Classics Archive
441 Searchable Works of Classical Literature

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