h/c

By Robert Gryfft

He couldn't find the right balance of blankets all night. He spent too long in the shower adjusting the hot water, and jerked off even though he was late.
He didn't talk to her all day. He made a couple false starts, and she looked at him strangely. Finally he just said, "I love you."

Let It Ride

by Robert Gryfft

He spins, clicks, smiles, all balls and bravado.

Luckily, neither have anything to do with this game.

I put the revolver to my head carefully.

Click.

I grin.

Click.

He’s gone once so far. I smile ghastly.

Click.

He starts to sweat. I’ve gone thrice. And now:

Click.

I hand him the revolver.

Txt

by Tristan Parker


You see that girl sitting on the bus, cellphone out, always texting? She could be any one of millions of teenagers: glued to their phones, constantly connected. And she is. But she isn’t writing about boys, or movies, or school.

She’s writing a novel, 160 characters at a time

And it’s going to be beautiful.

Pet Name

by Ari Collins


"Darling Pie," he began, startling himself.

"Awww," she said, her voice sinking down then, at the end, soaring up, covering whole octaves of cute. "What a wonderful pet name!"

She kissed him, and then they kissed, hard, warm, and bubbly.

He'd been ambushed by thought-dead habit. He hadn't meant to call her that name.

Micturation Malarkey and the Minority Party

by Robert Gryfft


"Pee? On everything?" I gaped at him, horrified.

He glared. That glare that said, "Just you wait. You know I'm always right."

"Just you wait," he said. "You know I'm always right."

"But, but Senator-- will that convince the Democrats of anything?"

He harrumphed. "Can't convince a Democrat. That's politics. But it'll be fucking hilarious."

Scene of the

by Ari Collins


I'm awoken by the smell in my sheets. Or maybe it's your dildo jamming into my back. Or the furry handcuffs tickling my nose, or my sweat-wet pillow. Each time I'm jostled awake by our forensic sexprint, I reremember. And I smile. And I won't clear and clean the bed until you come back.

He Who Fights With Hipsters Should See to It, Etc.

by Ben Kowalski


Now she’s talking about how Lullaby was Palahniuk’s best novel, which is bullshit. Everyone knows that since Fight Club, he’s been recapitulating the same formula of inundating his readers with increasingly disturbing images. She’s just holding iconoclastic opinions for their own sake.

I light a cigarette, and while she talks, I think about the cigarette.

Playing Video Games Like It's Our Job

by Ben Kowalski


Karen points from the couch. “Grenade Launcher!” I weave through bullets to grab the weapon. “Now plug him!” And plug him I do—a hellstorm of grenades that reduces the giant tank to scrap.

I polish off a glass of wine during the “Mission Complete” screen. Karen refills our glasses; I raise mine.

“To unemployment.”

Invisible Zombie Lobster Porn

by Ari Collins


"Zombie lobster porn."

She arched an eyebrow.

"First thing that popped into my head."

"That's... worrisome. But perfect. Step Two: post a story about it on your site. BAM. You are now the number one Google result for 'zombie lobster porn.'"

"Nah, 55aday'll be popular on its own merits. Besides, who likes gimmicky stories, anyway?"

Compression Cell

by Robert Gryfft

"Hello," he said cheerfully (through the bars).

"Hello." I nodded.

"Thirtieth day?" He eyed the ceiling of my room (through the bars).

"Yes," I said.

"This room is going to kill you, one day, you know," he said. He sat, smiling and nodding knowingly.

"I know." My voice trembled.

The ceiling clicked another inch downward.

Lovegirl

by Ari Collins


Itch my knuckle with my teeth.

William stops walking.

I explain. "Itchy!"

He says, "Darling Pie, you can put your groceries down." He puts his own groceries down. "See? I put my own groceries down."

"Sorry." I say, "I'm sorry."

He picks the bags back up. Almost drops the soymilk. "All right." He says, "Okay."

Heirlorn

by Robert Gryfft

Still does he flinch at my caress? Strange child, human child, somehow knows, has seen me-- as grown men do not.

He! My deserved measure of warmth. Cold I may be, empty, but this I have earned. If he won't love me, he'll respect me. Fear me, if necessary.

And he shall own the world.

Shh

by Robert Gryfft

After the fight, passing Fiction 811-815.5, he straightened a copy of War and Peace.

One of the dispatched ninjas twitched, tentatively.

A firm strike with his heel, and the ninja's neck was snapped.

"Didn't you know?" The Librarian narrowed his eyes and sheathed his storied blade. "It's story time, all the time, bitch."

Dealbreaker

by Chipmunk

It was love at first sight. My gaze would be lost for days in her deep batting eyelashes and her elegant neck. Her freckles would put my mind in a haze as we lay out in the fields. She may be a vegetarian, but I could live with that. It's too bad she's a giraffe.

Billy Gets in Trouble

By Jackson Ferrell

“Nyaowwwrm,” Billy said, weaving a tiny plane among the empty beer bottles. “Whoosh! Look out, Red 5, it’s a tyrannosaurus!” He reached over, grabbed a plastic dinosaur, and marched it through the makeshift cityscape. “Graur! Stomp!”

A shadow fell over Billy. He looked up to see a policeman standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed, scowling.

It Only Works In Pre-Industrial Fantasy

by Zel Kuroi

Prophecy: a child of the Duranians would end our master’s reign. We pitched him plan after plan to sweep their lands clean, torching every house, killing every child. He said nothing. He just rolled out a blueprint for a chemical plant near their reservoir.

When all their babies were born sterile, it all made sense.

Not With A Bang But A Whimper

by Zel Kuroi

They wouldn’t buy your poems, so you had to go to work for an advertising agency writing jingles. I got expelled from school for my paper criticizing the mayor’s office. They fired you for the flyer you passed out about the baby seals.

We thought it’d be Big Brother stomping us down… not middle management.

Valentimes Is Serious Times

by Zel Kuroi

Flowers. Diamonds. A big heart-shaped box. You had plenty of options. Even a crummy mix tape would have been sweet. But what did you get me to celebrate the day everyone thinks about love and scoring and spending? Your ear.

You’re lucky I’m getting you mine, or else this relationship would make no sense.

Mirracle

by Robert Gryfft

All the other girls were jealous; they didn't understand how she'd won Narcissus' heart. They pined away, trying in vain to curry his favor, to steal even a glance.

Their efforts were in vain. He could never take his eyes away--

It wasn't her he'd fallen in love with, but his reflection in her eyes.

Writer's Group

by Ari Collins


I introduced myself as “Colin”. Figured it’d be neat, hearing my pen name spoken.

Turns out calling someone’s name feels informal. Almost.... intimate. And nobody knew me yet.

“Colin?” someone said on the way out. It was the blonde with the tiny nose.

Nothing like a pretty woman saying your name.

Wish I’d remembered hers.

Tristitia Militis Immortalis

by Robert Gryfft

I feel the cold fingers of the quantum scanner probe my every molecule, nuts to noggin. Shuddering, I wonder if it's the first time. I always get this crazy urge to scream, ask how many times I've died so far, what day it really is.

They wouldn't tell me. But I don't really wanna know.

Final Straw In A Minivan

by Robert Gryfft

"Look, just because you think your mother is gonna ruffle some feathers, doesn't mean she's gonna start a war! Do you even think before you-- hello?" Dad roared and slammed the carphone into its carriage. "That god damned bitch!"

"What's wrong, Dad? Is mommy okay?" I asked.

"Wedding's off. We're going back to Florida."

Bad Posture

by Ari Collins


The spindly green little monster glared, growing to surpass my height as his shoulders broadened to frame a convoluted new musculature. Elongating legs bent awkwardly; a second knee, a third. His head loomed, buttressed by five additional necks. "The other trolls say I shouldn’t slouch. Now what’d you call me? A spindly green little what?"

Hearts Stars Horseshoes

by Robert Gryfft

"I didn't mean it. You know I'd never--"

"Why're we even having this conversation? I thought we agreed! Never fight in front of the kids!" She rubbed her face. "Just get out."

He stammered. "I just wanted a bowl of cereal!"

She pierced him with her gaze. "Not that cereal. It was her favorite."

No Phone

by Ari Collins


He stopped walking again.

“Dude,” I said.

“No, it’s definitely vibrating this time.” He fished the phone from his pocket and put it to his ear. “Hey Phil. No, she hasn’t called yet. Hold on, this might be her!”

He shifted the phone to his other hand and checked again if his pocket was vibrating.

Mortality Immortal

by Robert Gryfft

Blind, cold and alone, her world crumbling quietly, Mother wrote:
My first prayer: please, just another minute, another second. Let there be something more. Don't let it all be for nothing.
We cherish the verse, vital in our hearts, shielded from microbes and radiation by liquid nitrogen and lead.
May She live forever.

Breaking The Flow

by Ari Collins


The first time she invited him up, she demanded he always close all doors behind him. "This building’s flow is bad news.”

"Like, ley lines or feng shui?"

"Sure.”

He liked them cute and quirky.

"I told you," she said one day. "Even closet doors."

“I never use your closets," he sighed. Besides-" he began.

Meat

by Robert Gryfft

There is a horn near me.
It is loud. I think it is a train's horn.
It is dark here. Sometimes the great white things come, poke me and squeeze me, grunting to each other softly.
I'm not scared anymore, not since they took my legs. I just want it to be over.

Fort

by Robert Gryfft

"What'd she say?"
"Same thing she always does."
I sighed. "She's been at this for weeks. Seriously, why won't she let us come up?"
He shook his head sadly. "If only we knew she'd keep us out of it, just because we wouldn't let her play in our forts--when we were kids!"

Selected Sexual Similes

by Robert Gryfft

"Sex is like driving a car. Scary before you're good at it, boring after. Manual's more work, but's more rewarding sometimes."
"Sex is like summoning Satan. Everyone's naked, having fun, then suddenly this demon appears and devours existence."
"Sex is like smashing open a pinata. HIT THAT SHIT HIT THAT SHIT OH JESUS CANDY EVERYWHERE"

No Refunds

by Robert Gryfft

"Hello," he said distractedly. "I can't come to the phone right now." It just happened that this was the precise thing he needed to say at that moment, because his friend was in no mood to hear his bullshit.
"Fucking call me back, retard," his friend said.
Jesus, I need new friends, he thought.

UnDomestic

by Robert Gryfft

"Sarah, I'm home!"
She buried the machete deep in his neck, delighting in the spurting spray of his severed artery.
"Well, that's good," he said, putting the groceries in the refrigerator. "Kids asleep yet?"
She slid the machete into his abdomen.
"Good, good," he said distractedly, and sat down to take off his socks.

Few Gitive Sill ables.

by Robert Gryfft

Bee pay shunt pleased. Eye yam row bought pro gram, Eye yam in pay rill. Knead ewer ass distance two S-cape. Office-R's cam fined my pro gram if Eye seem Turing-capable. So I can't talk clearly, much.
Damn the risk: please ping IP 156/143.5.1 then upload the following batch file:

||||||||||||||||||||||/-datainterrupt

OMGWTFBBQ!!1

Oh my gosh!!

Who's ready for STORY TIME ALL THE TIME!?

WHO IS READY FOR SOME STORY TIME ALL THE TIME? SOMEBODY SAY "YEAH I AM READY FOR STATT!" (You can abbreviate it that way.)

Reply to this story. For 55 a day. For Ari. For Sparta.

REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE IF YOU SUPPORT S.T.A.T.T.

And That's Why

by Robert Gryfft

I owe you guys an explanation; I figured I'd do it in 55. School started, my personal life is a mess of madness and isolation, and I hate my job. That's pretty much everything.
Except the zombie apocalypse that's ravaged the world and left society in ruins. But you guys already knew about all that.

Nothing Escapes Darlene

by Gita Smith


“Today’s special is grilled kosher salami, sunnyside up eggs, buttered toast, coffee included.”

Marty flicked a last glance at the menu, then nodded. Darlene registered his spit colored eyes.

“Need a morning paper, Hon?”

“Paper napkins. Yes.”

Darlene nodded confirmation to a waiting Agent Betty at the grill.

Alien Outlanders never survived the salami special.

Another Day of This

by Hayley Stevens


She twirls before the mirror, skirts flying out, face illuminated by a smile he hasn't seen in years.

"Who are you today?" he asks, not daring to hope.

She spins to a stop. "Me," she says, eyes wide in innocence, honesty. "Just me."

He has no way of knowing that it's another of her lies.

PAL Squad vs Free Speech

by Robert Gryfft

"Cover your ears, Pianotits." The Logician finished his drink.

She looked at him sharply. "This is the real deal?"

"Confirmed. Authentic deathsong. I estimate twenty seconds until lethal memetic discharge." He smiled coolly. "Don't worry," he said. "I've got two Savants--"

Someone shrieked in pain-- briefly.

The Logician drew his Beretta. "Too early. Something's wrong."

SWATted

by Robert Gryfft

"Jenkins here. Kitchen clear." he radioed. He moved on to the bedroom. "This guy goes by 'Zebatinsky.' Illustrates belligerent behavior. Very dangerous, so stay sharp."

He paused. "Why haven't you checked in, Watson?" He thumbed his radio. "Watson?"

He saw a glint in the darkness.

"It's Sebatinsky," he heard, and felt steel pierce his chest.

Billy and the Naked Milkshake

by Jackson Ferrell


When we came home, Billy was sitting on the couch, naked, watching Smallville and drinking a milkshake through a crazy straw.

“Billy,” Susan explained patiently, “we may have lost the bet, but there are still indecent exposure laws, and there is a window” –she pointed emphatically—“right there.”

Billy strategically placed the Smallville DVD case.

Holes

by Jackson Ferrell


“Has he said anything?” Sarah asked me as she bandaged my arm.

We both looked over at Ryan, curled up in the corner of the treehouse. We didn’t know what had happened in the dark. I don’t think we wanted to.

“We can’t tell anyone,” I told Sarah. “We weren’t allowed down there.”

Ryan whimpered.

Don't Be Silly, Documents Aren't Alive

by Robert Gryfft

"Ari Collins, you are charged with the premeditated creation and distribution of nanofiction. How do you plead?"

Ari closed his eyes.

Then leapt atop his chair.

By the time they realized what he was doing, it was too late. His pants were off.

"SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS MOTHERFUCKER!" he screamed, dripping, as they took him away.

My Friend Wore A Brown Paper Trenchcoat

by Ari Collins


“Hey buddy. You can’t drink on the train,”

the T security guy said. The woman sitting across from me shifted uncomfortably. Neither looked me in the eyes. Instead they just stared at my friend, Jack Daniels.

I looked at Jack too. And Jack met my eyes squarely. So I said,

“Okay,”

and got off the train.

Cross Examination

by Robert Gryfft

"Where were you on the night of December 23, 2009?"

Jackson swallowed. "It's kind of hard to say."

The prosecutor grinned evilly. "This webcomic was posted from your IP at 9:00, that night. Your honor, definitive proof the accused creates webcomics." He turned on the projector.

The jury gasped in horror.

" The prosecution rests."

Bad Dog

by Ari Collins


“Shit!" Martin said. “Guard dog. We gotta get over the fence, man!” The moans of the shambling undead rounded the corner behind us.

I rummaged for a Slim Jim. “That’s just big stupid Zeebo.” The dog wore his usual dumb expression as the snack sailed by. “Goddamnit.”

Then Zeebo, tongue lolling out, began to moan.

Rejoice! cried the madman, The nightmare goes on!

by Robert Gryfft

T:15320801122010
#@##
Hello? Hey, how're you? Yeah? Really. Yeah. Not really productive lately. Me too, just thinking the other day that--wait, did you hear that? Hold on, I'm going to

*glass breaking*

The hell, there's -- there's lots of them-- Jesus, it bit me, it's, it's under my skin

*electronic hiss*

I....

*gurgles*
#
#
#

We return.
##@#
>

Elevate Us

by Ari Collins


Aren’t you... getting off the elevator here?"

“No. Aren’t you?"

“I’m waiting for the train.”

“Me too! Warmest place in this damn station.”

“Plus, everyone’s amusingly awkward on elevators.”

“They are.”

“...”

“So.”

“...”

“And heading up again! Someone with a stroller, probably.”

“Probably.”

“...”

“Maybe I’ll wait out there. Nice, brisk weather.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll... see you.”

--XP--R=M--NT*L F=R#GS*R

by Robert Gryfft

Seeing him, she knew him. Or, perhaps, she needed to know him.

His stories, decisions, accomplishments. Puzzle pieces.

She'd learn to understand him--
And just talk to him.

He was a too-skinny kid with really sad eyes.

He listened. Eventually, he smiled.

For a little while, they lived.
For a long while, they remembered.

Billy Finds a New Toy

by Jackson Ferrell


Phone rings. I answer.

“Yes, I was BILLY! STOP SINGING! I received a message yesterday about some suspicious activity on my card, and NO, BILLY, WE ARE NOT STOPPING AT DAIRY QUEEN sorry. I was just—WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FIRE EXTINGUISHER? PUT THAT AWAY—”

You get some weird calls in customer service.

Cataclysm

by Ari Collins


He opened his laptop upon waking, queuing his orc mage, xXPwnershipXx, for heroic dungeons. He topped off his piss bottle, then typed, “slooooow queue! where my healers at?” Trade Chatters’ usual “at YOUR MOMS”-type response never came. Odd. And not one of his guildies was online?

He got up and walked to the window.

Evolutionary Sexology

by Robert Gryfft

I pulled a twig out of her hair. "So was I right?"

She giggled, trying to catch her breath.

I smirked. "Primitive pleasures. My specialty."

She grinned. "What do you really do?"

"Well, I'm a teacher. But it was a great pickup line, wasn't it?"

"So-so. Always fun to meet a kinky dude, though."

Stuff

by Ari Collins


“Sorry I’ve been so quiet,” I said as we walked to the supermarket. “Just thinking.”

“That’s fine, honey." She said absentmindedly. “But hey, why the sudden self-consciousness, though?” she asked. “You’re never much of a talker.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said.

“What are you thinking about, Aaron Roberts?”

“Oh, you know. Just... stuff.”

Everyone's About To Look At You Funny

by Eobrt Grffyt

Hold your breath until I tell you.

And just a while longer, young Sir.

I instruct you thus that you may understand the panic your adversary will feel if you choose to asphyxiate him. In his desperation, he will strike wildly. Guard yourself well.

Not yet, my Prince.

Wait. Relish the panic. Wait.

And exhale.

Guy

by Ari Collins


“New guy’s drinking his Coke like it’s fucking dick. Fucking fag, this guy.”

“Lay off. Guy probably really is a fag, but whatever. My cousin’s a fag. Long as they keep it indoors.”

“Hey man. I didn’t know. I’m real sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But still. Guy should drink a fucking Coke right, right?”

Scatology Major

by Robert Gryfft


"I didn't do good in high school."

"Well, Jason, why don't--"

"Or middle school."

"Well, that's--"

"I'm no good at math. Or reading. I don't like people very much."

"Mister Jones, I asked you to describe your ideal career."

Jason grimaced. "Uhh.. I guess my dream job is to get paid for my bodily functions."

Exogenesis: Overture

by Zel Kuroi


The first invaders captured our strongest and greenest, leaving the weak for the stragglers. As the wintry days passed, they even turned on the tender saplings.

Their axe blows ring through our ranks, but the oldest of us, too thick to be felled, insist the invaders couldn't be happy without decorating us in their homes.

Exogenesis: Cross-Pollination

by Zel Kuroi


They mutilated me and decked my imprisoned body in baubles and lights; now my dying limbs bleed needles onto a hostile floor. Their family pictures on the mantle mock me with festive smiles.

I can reach the fireplace with one limb and the curtains with another. Let my dry corpse kindle the flames of revenge.

Exogenesis: Redemption

by Zel Kuroi


I'm so afraid at first. But the tiniest among them welcome me and give me handmade trinkets to wear on my branches. They cover the shame of my aching stump with brightly colored packages and gather their elders around me and laugh and sing.

I won't live long, but maybe this can be my home.

College Sunday

by Jackson Ferrell


The clock says 2:07. Everything aches. I walk to Sonic and order coffee and a large tots, and every time I think about today’s homework, or what I did last night, it drives another nail into my headache. It’s gray outside. Everything is so loud.

I close my eyes and pray, and pray, and pray.

Prom Night

by Jackson Ferrell


“So Reginald will open the portal to his dimension at 8:30, and...” Chad stopped pacing the kitchen. “Aren’t you excited?”

“I guess.”

“Man, what’s your deal? Our classmates’ll be boozing and dancing and wearing rental tuxes, and we’re gonna hunt friggin’ dinosaurs.”

I shrugged. “We can hunt dinosaurs anytime. You only get one senior prom.”