By Ian Wilson … It was hard to describe; it wasn’t human, nor was it like any animal I had ever seen, like a parody of biology, a satanic practical joke. Its gawky body was ink-black. Multiple eyes blazed out of its head. Its mouth, if you could call it a mouth, was a mass of dripping tentacles. I screamed. Holding my rosary aloft, I shouted, “In Christ’s name, get back!”
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By Sarah Losardo … Cara dashed tears away from her face with the back of her hand, blinking hard in an attempt to see well enough to drive safely. Her twenty-year-old civic rattled a little at 70 miles per hour, but Cara was pretty sure it wasn’t anything serious. It certainly didn’t matter right now – all that mattered was getting home to Maryland to the side of her mother’s hospital bed.
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By Amanda Pizzolatto … “When is anyone going to be able to read on St. George’s Day?” Porter laughed. “Oh, we just give the books on St. George’s Day, we don’t start reading until we’ve finished cleaning the next day. It’s why we get that day off.”
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By Samantha Terrell … The last communion I ever took with my dad was grape juice from a prefilled plastic cup – the type that’s filled with creamer at the diner. We had a lot of losses in that era (at the moment, I can’t stomach counting them all), but Dad is the only one I got to commune with – behind a curtain pulled for privacy in the ICU.
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By Joshua David Ling … William’s head bled from the flat of Brock’s axe / Everything happening seemed to be going too fast. / He blinked as he stared through the glare of the sun / But his ears did not fail when Fenris yelled “RUN!”
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By Lyn Wilson … Before sun up, Lina was warned that raiders were coming to attack. They wanted to steal her farm and would kill her to do it. There was no time to mourn; she had to leave immediately.
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By T.K. Wilson … “Get dressed and come with me; Snow White is missing. And we found this – a spy drone.”
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By T.K. Wilson … I would be at Fionn’s side at the ball, but we were best friends; he carried a token of mine at tournaments! It was natural that I should be there. Only natural…
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By Joshua David Ling … The funeral was hard, the eulogy brief. / Cyrus fought back tears and heart-wrenching grief. / She said she’d find the wretched machine and its creator. / And none would be able to hide from The Great Vindicator.
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By Joshua David Ling … The rearing of William Avery was the best that it could be. / From the age of three he learned to sing in four part harmony. / At five, he learned to fence and soon he learned to read and write. / But the Bible was his one true joy in morning and at night.
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By Amanda Pizzolatto … Many, many years ago, on the island of Ha’apehe, lived a man, his wife, and their only child, Elwika. Elwika’s father had a very successful pineapple farm and could not wait until Elwika was old enough to pass it on along to him. However, Elwika had other dreams,
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By Joshua David Ling … Reed Jones, good and faithful servant, / Your wife will be saved from death’s dark current. / Your daughter as well, but she’ll be born with power. / All weather before her eyes will cower.
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By Ian Wilson (Rated PG-13) The filler-rod crackled and hissed in the mid-morning light as I dabbed the molten metal onto the two pieces of rebar I was welding together. I lifted my welding hood to examine my work. It was a good weld; smooth, not a single pocket. I lit my cigarillo off the […]
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By Amanda Pizzolatto … Elizabeth filled her basket with whatever bread she could find. She just hoped she wouldn’t be seen by members of the court. While her husband shared her desire and passion for helping the poor, she knew his family complained constantly about her works of mercy.
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“This is Queen Titania of the Wild Hunt, and Katrina is carrying a human infant Her Majesty found abandoned and wishes to adopt.”
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My dearest Scumclod, In your last message, you expressed confusion about my enthusiasm regarding some of our recent efforts. It seems you have fallen prey to the Enemy’s own propaganda—particularly about the power of Death.
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Jesus looked at me and said, “My children are out on the streets!” The warm air from His breath puffed against the silent chill and His words hung there for a minute like snowflakes suspended in the air.
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“One of the engines ingested a chunk of ice during the de-icing procedure in Philadelphia,” explains the pilot in a calm, even voice. “We shut down that engine and are returning to Philadelphia. We will be landing in about 30 minutes.”
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Once upon a time in medieval Germany, a Knight named Kristof saw a glowing figure with a long white beard and wearing the garments of a Bishop. Somehow, Kristof knew in his heart that it was Saint Nicholas.
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I read over my own notes and looked at the evidence taken from Giuseppe’s house. I had a broken tablet of volcanic glass, a cylinder of smoke, a journal and a wicked sharp knife of unknown origin. Honestly, nothing here is of known origin, I thought.
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LogoSophia Magazine 