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Cozy by Joseph Hirsch

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A detective visits a woman connected to two missing persons cases, and finds something shocking. Image generated with OpenAI My suspect lived at the end of a cul-de-sac in a two-story bungalow surrounded by similar small houses. Two children were out front playing - a boy and a girl - enjoying the summer weather. The boy had a yellow plastic dump truck in his hand, a load of pebble gravel in the berth of the dump body. The girl, meanwhile, was clutching a piece of chalk and busily etching out a hopscotch board on the concrete. Kids . That could be a problem. I parked my Crowne Vic in the driveway behind an old Econoline van that didn't look like it had been washed or driven in years. Neither of the kids took any notice of me. I imagined they were used to seeing strange men enter and leave their mother's house. Or maybe they were just some neighbor's kids, but comfortable enough to encroach on Ariadna's property without fear. For all I knew she had a re...
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Muse and Cupid by Yuqing Weng

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An aspiring author moves in with a washed-up artist and they both try to find direction in their lives. Image generated with OpenAI Freya dreamed of a book launch for her debut novel A Bower of Myrtles . A bookshop converted from an old church. Stained glass windows cast speckles across animated faces. She saw her short blond curls, usually so unruly, now perfectly classy; her nose pert, not flat. Her long satin dress reflected the blue of her eyes, folding and flowing, capricious as the sea. "Could I get a signature?" A woman approached, strangely familiar, "Your writing captures the female struggle so poignantly. It's given me courage to face my life." She looked like Mum, Freya thought. "Thank you so much! You've no idea what that means to me." She found a Montblanc fountain pen in her hand and signed the title page. "Sorry, where did you sign?" Freya looked down, and couldn't find her signature anywhere. She wr...
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Str3ami3s by Cam Joyce

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Ben is part of a trio who have been live-streamed since childhood, with every waking moment manipulated for the sake of views. Image generated with OpenAI The camera clicks on again, all of us moving through the room in a hazy bliss, pretending we do not notice as it hovers nearer to our heads. The room is done up to exemplify George, a conceptualization of his bedroom: the shag carpet, littered with toys that we 'love', chipping sailboat wallpaper, graphic T-shirts some hard-core fans might realize none of us have worn, a meticulously intimately messy bed. "Georgie, you're such a nerd," Lily laughs, shaking her head, "isn't he such a nerd, guys?" She'd found an old poster hanging up on the walls, which was shimmering in her hands, switching between a few different movies. Her nails, red for the time being, crinkle against the poster paper, crumpling it. I snatch it away from her, peering down at it. "These movies are, lik...
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As You See the World by Paul Ryan O'Connor

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When Mía's car and dog are stolen, she leans on her lacklustre boyfriend Rich for help. Image generated with OpenAI "Can you describe the person who stole your car, ma'am?" "No, I told you, I only saw it pulling away, I didn't see who was driving." "And you left the car running, with the keys in the ignition?" "Yes, it's been hard-starting lately and I was only gone for -" "Any identifying marks on the car? Body work or bumper stickers?" "There's a big dent in the driver side door. The rear window has a SFPBR sticker - that's this rescue group where I work." "Anything important in the car?" "Yes! They stole my pup!" "A dog." "Lomi. He's an American Pit Bull Terrier, a rescue." "Is that the same thing as a pit bull?" "Pit bulls aren't really a breed," Mía said. "With all the backyard breeding, it...
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A Second Shot by Joe Giordano

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A drunk driver kills a man with his car, but the man comes back to life. Image generated with OpenAI Navigating through a mental fog created by a surfeit of bourbon, I tore around a winding Texas wooded road and triggered my worst nightmare. A guy suddenly appeared on a blind curve. Although I swerved, slamming on my brakes, I heard the thud of my bumper smacking into him. "Oh, shit." My eyes riveted on the rearview mirror and revealed the crumpled heap of a man lying on the asphalt beyond the car's skid marks. He didn't move, and my angst spiked. Swallowing, my mouth suddenly dry, I reluctantly left the car, approaching the body on shaky legs. Standing over him, I almost retched. I prayed even for a groan of pain, some indication that he was still alive, but no. Fear chilled my heart. What was I going to do? Blond, likely in his forties, the guy's bloodstained body was folded at the waist like a jackknife. I crouched down and placed my fingers...
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