by Michael Kingswood George opened up the trunk of his blue Ford Focus and hefted a brown canvas duffle bag out. He shifted his torso, slinging the duffle over his left shoulder, and grunted softly at the weight of the bag’s contents. He’d thrown that shoulder out once about five years earlier while weight lifting,…
Category: Short Story
Lost Credit – A Glimmer Vale Chronicles Story
by Michael Kingswood Raedrick Baletier looked up from the parchment he was reading as the door to the Constabulary swung open, admitting midday sunlight that brightened the place more than the lamps hanging on either side of the barred wrought iron doorway leading back from the front office to the cell block ever did. His…
Miss Melody And The Knight Gallant
by Michael Kingswood Henry ran as hard as he could remember ever running. His heart pounded in his ears and his breaths came in gasps as he pushed himself to greater speed, but above even the cacophony of his racing pulse he could still hear the footfalls behind him, the mocking shouts as his pursuers…
Wire Runs
by Michael Kingswood The ship rocked, and Karl felt himself hurled to the side. He clenched his teeth and rolled his shoulders in anticipation of the impact, but still he ended up grunting out a half-shout when he struck the bulkhead across from where he had been working. The unexpected g-force left as quickly as…
Moonstruck
by Michael Kingswood The moon was a waxing gibbous, just a few days away from full. It shown down on the field where Susan lay with blue-white brilliance, giving the world a dull, mysterious illumination that hinted at mysteries almost uncovered. Secrets whispered in the shadows. She tucked her hands beneath her head and just…
Joyride to the Moon
by Michael Kingswood Jeremy frowned, and stared daggers at the keypad that had—once again—foiled his attempt to get inside his Dad’s ride. He hadn’t figured it would be this tough. He’d tried his Dad’s birthday. His Mom’s birthday. His sister’s. No dice. He’d tired combinations of all four. Nothing. Their wedding date. Nope. It was…
Miss Melody And The Elf Spa
by Michael Kingswood Steph ran her left hand through her hair, and wished she hadn’t cut it short the previous week. She hadn’t realized how much just running her fingers through it, and then being able to give it a little tug—just a little—was soothing when she was irritated or upset. Now there was barely…
Work Release
by Michael Kingswood “I really don’t want to do this.” Billy looked across the drop ship to where the kid sat, strapped to his crash couch by a four-point sling of webbing, and could identify completely. The kid was young, maybe twenty years old. Brown-haired, with yellow-green eyes. In shape, but not bulky, and wearing…
Cave Diving For Dummies
by Michael Kingswood Harry adjusted his lips around the hard rubber clenched between his teeth and inhaled. Dry air that tasted slightly of plastic entered his lungs with the corresponding click-hiss of his regulator. Deep and slow, controlled breaths. Don’t draw down the tank too soon. The mantra from his SCUBA instructors echoed in his…
Abe’s Liquors
by Michael Kingswood Betty sniffed back tears and wiped the back of her right hand across the bottom of her nose. It had gone runny from crying so hard. She squinted into the early evening darkness, her left hand flexing on the scarred and fading brown leather that wrapped the steering wheel of her Camry,…