Singular Pandemic by C.S. Bailey
I am close to the end. I can feel death stalking me with my every wheezing breathe. Lying in my resting place, all wrapped up, I feel only cold. The medication didn’t help me at all; neither did the constant rain at work.
My life is nearly over, I am ready to go to my final resting place and forever be in peace from this infernal virus.
Soon, my wife comes into the room to say farewell.
“Goodbye my love.” I whisper sweetly.
She replies coldly, “Get out of bed you lazy bell end, you've only got bloody man flu.”
The Aristocrat- Part One by Nav Logan
With a pedigree that went back for many generations, the aristocrat had always been destined for greatness. He had been born to it, like his father before him. Reared on the plains of Kildare, his life had been an easy one, this gentleman of leisure. His days were spent going to the races, or breaking a light sweat during a game of polo.
Inevitably, he would lead the winning side to victory with honours.
Later, he would bow his head gentle in acknowledgement of the applause, commoners and gentry alike, and be led off in fanfare to the waiting party.
The Dilemma by Bryan Thomas
"Dad?"
"What?"
"Jimmy's father has done something bad."
"How bad?"
"Really bad."
"Do you want to tell me what he's done?"
"I do... and I don't. I kinda promised Jimmy."
"So, you are facing a bit of a dilemma, son."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"It's a criminal act, right?"
"Some people would see it that way."
"I think I know what it might be, don't say anything, just nod if I'm right."
"I will."
"Jimmy's dad has murdered someone."
"What! No. He hasn't murdered anyone, he's bought a season ticket for Manchester United."
"That's a heinous crime by anybody's standards, son."
MISSING YOU by Rick Haynes
Here I sit, all alone on our faded cream sofa.
My feet are hanging over one of the dark wooden arms, as my hand grasps the tumbler ever tighter.
The half-empty bottle on the coffee table speaks volumes, as my eyes shed droplets like the whiskey tears running down the outside of the glass.
Was it only last week that she packed her bags and left, clearing out the bank account on her way to meet her new lover?
Someone I knew so very, very well; my mate and my best friend.
I really, really . . . miss him.
Dear John by D.S. Scott
Dear John,
Thank you for sinning! You go to church, you pray and you even read the Bible occasionally, but you still sin! Damned if you aren’t good at it too. You lie, cheat, curse, and hate. The list goes on. Please keep turning your back on God. Hell’s waiting, friend. Don’t stop now! You’re so close!
Oh, and thanks for having such beautiful children. I love watching them follow in your footsteps. Your wife’s on her way too.
Just remember, God doesn’t love you but I always will!
Anyway, thanks again, my friend.
See you soon,
Your tempter,
Satan
Whetstone by J.P. Royan
Shhhhhiiiing! Tyax looked along the steel that had been his campaign sword for many years. Morning sunlight glistened off its edge as the whetstone slid upwards from the base to the tip. Shhhhhiiiing! Tyax's thoughts turned to the horrors his blade had committed for the empire. The villages and towns that had fallen to their march south. Shhhhhiiing! The Kareenesh had finally turned up to give them a fight however. Tyax’s chance to show his swordsmanship.
He hated everything about the southern scum but nothing more than their custom of execution for military prisoners. Beheading by your own sword. Sssshhhhhiiiiiing!
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