Short Stories

Elara Thorne knelt in the damp soil of her herb garden, her fingers gently caressing the wilting leaves of a once-vibrant rosemary plant. She leaned in close, straining to hear the faint whisper that had grown fainter with each passing day. “Please,” she murmured, “speak to me.” But the rosemary remained silent, its branches drooping as if in sorrow. Elara sat back on her heels, a familiar ache settling in her chest. All around her, the plants of Willowbrook were growing quieter, their voices fading like mist in the morning sun. ...

The old truck’s engine sputtered and coughed as Elowen Thorne guided it around the last hairpin turn. Shale Peak came into view, a ramshackle collection of weathered buildings clinging to the mountainside like lichen to stone. She downshifted, the gears grinding in protest, and eased off the gas to let gravity pull the vehicle down the final stretch of rutted dirt road. As she rolled into town, curious faces peered out from behind dusty windows and around dilapidated porches. Elowen kept her eyes fixed ahead, ignoring the stares. She’d grown accustomed to being an outsider in the five years since she’d arrived in this isolated mining community, but the townsfolk’s wariness had sharpened to suspicion in recent weeks. ...

The salty breeze whipped across the deck of HMS Mermaid’s Tear as she cut through the choppy waters of the English Channel. Captain Elias Blackwood stood at the helm, his weathered hands gripping the polished wood as he gazed out at the horizon with steely determination. The weight of responsibility pressed down upon his broad shoulders, along with something else - a secret burden he’d carried for far too long. ...

The salt spray stung Amelia’s eyes as she peered through her binoculars at the churning sea. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, matching her mood. Three weeks into their marine biology expedition, and they’d found nothing of note. Just endless water and dwindling supplies. “See anything?” Dr. Russo’s voice startled her. The expedition leader had appeared silently beside her on the ship’s deck. Amelia lowered the binoculars, shaking her head. “Nothing but waves, sir. Are you sure this is the right area?” ...

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom when Dr. Yumi Tanaka returned to her lab at Kyoto University. Pink petals drifted on the breeze, dusting the shoulders of her white coat as she walked across campus. In years past, she and Akira would have strolled hand-in-hand beneath the trees, marveling at nature’s beauty. Now, the flowers only served as a bitter reminder of all she had lost. Yumi swiped her keycard and entered the quantum physics building, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. It was early - too early for most of her colleagues to have arrived. But she couldn’t bear to stay in their silent apartment any longer, surrounded by Akira’s belongings and the crushing weight of his absence. ...

The old Chevy rumbled down the winding forest road, its tires crunching over fallen pine needles. Mira Lawson gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. She glanced at her daughter Tessa in the rearview mirror. The eight-year-old’s face was pressed against the window, her eyes wide with wonder at the towering trees surrounding them. “You excited, kiddo?” Mira asked, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. Tessa nodded enthusiastically. “This is gonna be the best camping trip ever!” ...

Mei Lin’s hands trembled as she clutched the letter, its creased paper soft from repeated folding and unfolding. The characters blurred before her eyes, but she’d long since memorized their contents. Her grandmother was dying. The woman she hadn’t spoken to in over twenty years, the last tenuous link to a part of herself Mei Lin had tried so hard to bury, was slipping away in a village half a world away. ...

The neon-soaked streets of Axiom City’s lower levels pulsed with an eerie, artificial heartbeat. Detective Zara Vex stood motionless, her cybernetic eye whirring as it scanned the latest crime scene. This was the fifth disappearance in as many weeks, each victim vanishing without a trace, save for a cryptic message left behind. Zara’s human eye narrowed as she crouched to examine the glowing text that hovered just millimeters above the grimy floor: “The singularity approaches. Are you ready to ascend?” ...

The moving truck rumbled away, leaving Mira Chen alone on her new driveway. She surveyed the quiet cul-de-sac, identical houses lining the curved street like a row of pastel-colored teeth. Only the numbers differentiated one from the next. 1420 Sycamore Lane - her new address. Mira’s gaze drifted down to the sidewalk. Something about the cracks in the concrete caught her eye. They formed an intricate lattice, almost like a circuit board or the veins of a leaf. She shook her head, chalking it up to an overactive imagination after a long day of unpacking. ...

Greta Hoffmann stood at the edge of her balcony, hands cupped around her mouth, and let out a warbling cry that echoed across the Alpine valley. “Yodel-ay-hee-hoo!” Her voice cracked on the final note, dissolving into a fit of coughing. “Verdammt!” Klaus grumbled from his armchair inside. “Must you do that every morning? The neighbors will think we’re raising a herd of dying goats up here.” Greta turned and beamed at her husband, undeterred. “Now, now, Klausy. You know what they say - practice makes perfect! And just think how impressed everyone will be when I master it.” ...