The plane was landing, and I was running out of time. I frantically looked across the aisle at his slack-clad legs, crossed at the ankle. ‘Think, Marianne, think.’ I nonchalantly put my seat back into upright position as the crew performed cabin checks, and grit my jaw. Time to

“A hero’s journey is long and winding, but a hero always finds the way,” my mother read. “That’s the end of the story, Anya. Good night.” After she left, I pulled out the book and stared at the picture of the hero and her friends, wishing I could be one of them.

Fortune cookies. I've been making them for eons, directing entire Chinese restaurants in the delicate art and penning the predictions down myself. It was all supposed to be one big hoax, just a fun family thing to do. Never had I thought that I would be judged after death for it.

Wearing a mask is a beautiful thing until the moment dawns on you that taking it off is a lot harder than putting it on. I had been wearing a mask for ten years before realizing it had begun to adhere to my face and to disintegrate the identity it hid.

I had always been an unremarkable demon. I came from a proud bloodline of many a well known incubus that had seduced some of the major players in history in order to alter its’ flow, but I was stuck with only the ability to ask charming questions and receive a truthful answer.

Whenever someone asks me about my childhood, I don’t smile and think of good times. I shudder. I think of the only thing from my childhood I remember. Cold, Darkness, Loneliness. Nothing else for 15 years. Cold, Darkness, Loneliness

Crunch. The bug bit into its snack once more, covering yet keeping in time with the ticking of the clock it was captured in. It gleefully eyed the nearing death of the minute spider. Whenever the spider died, a new snack appeared out of nowhere and it would start its 60-bite meal

You think you know me. But I’ve fooled you with my ordinary clothing and passive manner. I want you to think I’m weak, submissive. I want to gain your trust. If you only knew

The damp murk of the cellar, unaided by the arm of moonlight reaching in through the grime of a solitary window, was silent and still. Motes of dust, turbulent as stars, slowly twinkled in their passage through the blue light the nature of their disturbance unseen.

Before their eyes was the frozen ocean, fractured but solidified once more underneath. It seemed like an undulating ballroom floor of some psycho snow queen. Dark shadows the size of humpback whales moved restlessly underneath their feet encased in ice. It's been hours since the

Well, it's not every day that you discover your mother is the most despised supervillain in the history of Mars.

"Fellow Blockians, this is our hour of battle. We must not falter! To victory! Battalions 8 and 9, prepare for ambush!" The legoes crouched to camouflage themselves in between the multi-colored folds of the blanket. "Target in sight! Harden your armors! Brace for impact!"

Jim had been stuck in a time loop for—by his estimates—a hundred and fifty years. At least the day he inhabited was sunny and warm, although he was often sorry he’d never again get to experience Christmas. Or his birthday. Or any day that wasn’t June 23rd, really. But June 23rd

The end of my life was near. I could feel it in my bones. “Make it a double,” I said to the bartender. What would a few extra drinks matter? They’d help to numb the pain, at least, and if I was going to die soon anyway, I could at least go out totally blitzed. He set the drink

I was walking, book in hand, when I bumped into someone. I was met by a familiar face. My friend, Kate, looked back at me. But then it hit me Kate died in an accident 3 years ago. And I saw it happen. There was no doubt it was her, but how could it be?

It was a crisp fall day. The end of our hike had led us to a clearing in the forest, just behind the CVS. Holly was standing still, staring at something. As I approached, I saw it and gasped. It was a full skeleton torso complete with ribs, spine and pelvis. But no skull.

Everyone loved Lora's laugh. It was low, full of humor and light and everything you could want in a sound meant to elicit smiles. It was no wonder, then, that the day Lora stopped laughing was the day the town stopped smiling.

The gentle hum of the blowing fan in the corner, the slither of sunlight strewn across the room and settled on the tired, angelic and hopeful face before me. Powerless to do anything, holding her hands, I smiled, starring at the palm lines, in a daze, "Will I still remember?"

One of the only good things to come out of the pandemic was this: by 2025, sweatpants have become acceptable garments in every situation. Of course, you'd need formal sweats for formal occasions, but there was no need to wear any pants without elastic or drawstrings.

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.