FICTION: Hell Is Where The Heart Is

Sign saying Welcome To Hell

Photo: James Lee

This was written for the Reddit writing prompt: You were one of the greatest people on Earth before you died. Instead of going to Heaven, you arrive in Hell and are welcomed with open arms by Satan himself, who you learn is your real father.


What would I leave behind? My running foundations for the needy? My success in fighting climate change? The eradication of disease?

I would say that these were my last thoughts on my deathbed, but as it seemed, I just went from one way of existence into another, much like waking up from a dream. It happened so naturally that I didn’t even know I had died. Not until my guide had told me who he was, which I found it hard to believe too.

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FICTION: Stop Being So Dramatic

Group of people dancing in public

Photo: Nadim Merrikh

“I don’t want a promotion, I just want to write. But I could still use the raise,” I said.

“Hm, not quite what I expected, but I’d be glad to do that,” said Margaret. She moved her hands from a steeple under her chin to put them palm-down on the table. “I guess that settles it. Thanks for coming in!”

“You know what?” I said. “Actually, I think I’d rather not work. But if you could just mail my cheque every month, that’ll be great.”

“Hm. Now that’s something I’ll have to look into.”

I leaned forward, my own hands gripping the edge of her desk. I tried to calm my pacing heart. Was this it? “Are you telling me you won’t do it?”

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FICTION: The Thread Between Soulmates

Man and woman lying down face to face

Photo: Toa Heftiba

Floaters are funny little things. They disappear when you don’t pay attention, but the moment you spot one, you realise just how many there are, drifting quietly in your vision, just waiting to be noticed.

That’s how lovelines look like to me. You can’t really tell until you consciously keep an eye out for them. Don’t bother Googling what lovelines are. It’s just a term I came up with, one that you’re probably curious about right now. I certainly was.

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FICTION: Do You Really Want To Live Forever?

Old clock with protective bars

Photo: Zulfa Nazer

What would you do if you became immortal? This story explores one of the possibilities.

Loosely based off the Reddit writing prompt: “In the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man.”


Wars.

Throughout the thousands of years I’ve lived, it’s wars that seem to bind mankind through the ages. It’s where I’d first met Marcellus, after our army won the battle against Carthage. It’s how I’d fatefully meet him again 2,000 years into the future.

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WRITING PROMPT: Murphy’s Law

Man In Car On Phone

Photo: Alexandre Boucher

The writing prompt for this story is ‘What’s the worst that could happen? Well, you’re about to find out.’

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What’s the worst that could happen? Especially seeing how the question’s about driving out to buy a six-pack. Granted, your girlfriend told you to stay home, because she’s on her way, doesn’t have the keys, and her phone’s dying.

But it’s just a two-minute drive, and the shakes are coming on, which also means you’re within the legal limit to drive. Get in, get out, enjoy a few cans of beer. Really, what’s the worst that could happen?

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FICTION: The Final Tinder Date

Final Tinder Date - Silhouette of woman

Photo: Aaron Mello

This post was written for a writing prompt titled: “You discover an online, supposedly random “Yes/No” generator. But, after playfully using it for a short while, you find it to be 100% accurate in foretelling the future.”

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I’m in my car, waiting for Sara—my Tinder date—to get ready for our night out. A Reddit post shows up on my feed: “This Miracle Crystal Ball app can predict your future!” Yeah, sounds like garbage, but Sara’s not ready, and I have time to kill.

I visit the site, and the only thing on it is an empty field with an ‘Ask’ button. I type: “Will dinner with Sara be fun?”

“Yes.”

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