Loading...

Follow Every Writer - Short Stories on Feedspot

Continue with Google
Continue with Facebook
or

Valid

BLACK HOLE

by Alex Khansa

I pick up today’s paper. There’s a ring of light—bright and blurry—against a black backdrop. Headlines call it the first ever photo of a black hole.

I know he’d like it. He always had a thing for space, aliens, planets—all that documentary nonsense on Netflix.

When I see him, I hand him the paper—wait for him to react.

They tell me he doesn’t remember who I am. His eyes say otherwise.

They tell me he’s somewhere else—in the clouds, with the stars.

He brings his index and middle fingers to his lips, inserting and removing an invisible cigarette bud from his mouth.

And I wouldn’t mind offering him one—what difference does it make?

But they tell me I can’t do that. I can talk to him, they say. Sing to him, show him family photos.

In the article, they say the black hole is so dense it sucks everything in, but they don’t know how light escapes.

And I tell him, “It’s a mystery.”

I tell him, “It’s like the sparkle in your eyes.”

He smiles, and the way he does it, you’d wanna believe he’s smiling with you.

Then, the article suggests that the light is all the things being sucked in. Never to be seen again.

And here it comes again—that dull gaze.

So, I hold his hand. Grip tightly. Wait for that black hole to swallow us into the black pit of our next life.

###

Fajer Alexander Khansa was born and raised in Lattakia, Syria and Tokyo, Japan. He moved to the United States in 2005, where he completed his studies at USC. His writing has appeared in publications such as Tin House and The Normal School. He is a fiction reader for New England Review and a 2019 PEN America Emerging Voices Fellow.

The post BLACK HOLE by Alex Khansa   appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

Girl with Pearls in Her Eyes

by Fanni Sütő

There are ghosts on the Underground.

You don’t notice them because they look just like you, or a ticket inspector. They clutch their lost life as though it was a briefcase full of important documents. Their faces flicker dead-white against the recycled pages of free newspapers.

You don’t notice them. They are just passing annoyance; you start for a free seat just to find that somebody is already sitting there although you would have sworn that the chair was empty. They read into your Evening Standard over your shoulder. They are everywhere.

There is one of them you might remember though. She is different, not one of the usual suit-skinned lot. She is a fleeting bright colour, so strong you can only look at her from the corner of your eye. If it is a day when you are proud and feel like the king of life, she makes you pensive with the smell of chrysanthemum and ashes. When you are desperate and broken, shredded by the weight of every days, she giggles like a child and blows daffodil flakes in your face. She has pearls in her eyes; they look like tears but you can never see quite well in the half-blind neon light.

She is cruel but kind. Those who deliberately ignore her or frown at her flamboyance, get punished by the small spikes of life: the bus shuts its door in their face; somebody stomps on their feet or a remarkably bony elbow makes its way into their ribs. But those who are kind and have a second to spare for the girl with the tear-stained eyes, they will find a tenner on the street or an almost forgotten Cadbury bar in their pocket.

###

Fanni Sütő is a writer, poet, translator and the proud owner of a growing number of novels-in-progress. She publishes in English and Hungarian and finds inspiration in reading, paintings and music. She writes about everything which comes in her way or goes bump in the night. She tries to find the magical in the everyday and likes to spy on the secret life of cities and their inhabitants.

The post Girl with Pearls in Her Eyes by Fanni Sütő appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

A Narrow Bridge by Avital Gad-Cykman I’ve sang this ancient song in moments my mouth started singing on its own, and I listened with interest to learn what would come out of it. “The whole world is nothing but a narrow bridge, a narrow bridge, a narrow bridge.” It’s so narrow, my backyard is bigger. […]

The post A Narrow Bridge by Avital Gad-Cykman appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

I stood in the paddling pool. It was the first week of the summer holidays and mum was throwing the party she told dad she wouldn?t. My mum was everywhere, handing out drinks, but my dad was in a gap in the curtains, watching.

The post The Cold Sausages in my Neighbourhood by Owain Evans appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

NORTH RICHMOND STREET being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square groun

The post Araby by James Joyce appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

Nine-oh-eight Glenview Road was the best part of carrying the mail. Ten blocks into my suburban trek, there she'd be, stretched out on a neon towel, sweet and slick as a glazed

The post “Hi” by Lauren K. Sweeney appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

It was on the first day of the new year that the announcement was made, almost simultaneously from three observatories, that the motion of the planet Neptune, the outermost of all the planets that wheel about the sun

The post The Star by H. G. wells appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

The man with the white face entered the carriage at Rugby. He moved slowly in spite of the urgency of his porter, and even while he was still on the platform I noted how ill he seemed. He dropped into the corner over against me with a sigh, made an incomplete attempt to arrange his […]

The post A Dream of Armageddon by H.G. Wells appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

A Moonlight Fable by H. G. Wells There was once a little man whose mother made him a beautiful suit of clothes. It was green and gold and woven so that I cannot describe how delicate and fine it was, and there was a tie of orange fluffiness that tied up under his chin. And […]

The post A Moonlight Fable by H. G. Wells appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

The Rusted Swing Set by Sheila Good She folded the morning newspaper. Her old bones creaked as she stood leaning on the table for balance. Shuffling to the sink, she washed out her coffee cup placing it in the drainer. The sun was bright as she pulled the curtain aside checking out the backyard. The […]

The post The Rusted Swing Set by Sheila Good appeared first on Short Stories.

Read Full Article

Read for later

Articles marked as Favorite are saved for later viewing.
close
  • Show original
  • .
  • Share
  • .
  • Favorite
  • .
  • Email
  • .
  • Add Tags 

Separate tags by commas
To access this feature, please upgrade your account.
Start your free month
Free Preview