Stories

Author: W.F. Peate “No regrets using the hydrogen bomb General?” asked the reporter. “We saved lives. Their surrender stopped further bloodshed.” “Why didn’t you use the less destructive atomic bomb? Ninety percent fewer deaths.” General Liana crossed her arms over the silk leashes of her medals. “The Americans needed two atomic bombs to convince the […]

Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer We’d all seen the predictions, and everyone had seen at least one post-apocalyptic movie or series. Some of us were foolish enough to think we were ready. No matter which flavour of apocalypse story preferred, we’d all missed one critical point. Hatred. The two decades leading up to the final […]

A Change of Clothes By Derek Des Anges Security at the Bellside Gym and Leisure Centre was, in the opinion of Ivan Kles, a joke. Just as an example, like, he’d been able to walk right into the changing rooms and lockers where everyone kept their stuff without having a gym pass and without anyone […]

Author: Steve Smith, Staff Writer Abby woke with a start, a conversation with someone vaguely familiar against a kaleidoscope oceanview suddenly vanishing, dulcet tones replaced with a hockey organ ringtone her ex had programmed that couldn’t seem to be exorcised from her phone. “Good morning, you’ll want to get a robe on, our package is […]

"None of That" from SEVEN EMPTY HOUSES by Samanta Schweblin, recommended by Lynn Steger Strong

"The Oracle" by Joanna Pearson, recommended by Wynter K Miller for Electric Literature

"Madwomen" from EVERY DROP IS A MAN'S NIGHTMARE by Megan Kamalei Kakimoto, recommended by Molly Antopol

It takes a Black woman to tell the truth about another Black woman, whether she likes that woman or not. If the woman in question is loved, the story reaches mythological heights, she could do no wrong, she was brown skinned and beautiful, intelligent, had all her faculties and her teeth, all the men and women of the neighborhood called her by a term of endearment, which is how Medea morphed into Ma’Dear.

D.I.Y. By John Wiswell   People ask how Noah could possibly turn down the Ozymandias Academy. All they know about him is the headlines, and they think he’s ungrateful. What you don’t get is that attending Ozymandias was Noah’s dream. Noah wanted it worse than anyone. Do you know where he was when he was […]

Author: Maria Brekke Myrna zipped toward the city. A ten-ton mosquito pursued her, wings drumming annihilation. Colony security was rudimentary, but her kidnapping had raised insectile alarms. She leaned hard across her hoverboard, praying her cargo was secure as she banked. The mosquito’s three-meter proboscis stabbed the air to her side. Myrna straightened, ready to […]

Author: Majoki Summer’s long legs, the daylight stretching late in almost eternal dusk. They sat on the back stoop, the three friends fixed on the glow of the horizon, city and sky, a widening maw ready to devour them. They were not a poetic group. Hyperbole and metaphor did not register in their gazes, though […]

"AITA for Repairing My Neighbor's House?" a short story by Marian Crotty

"Tonya," a short story by Bowie Rowan

Every winter, right after the sun sets, the pitha seller of Qismat Square arrives at her spot. Nobody knows her name or age. She is “khala” or “nani” to those who like her, and “hag” or “old bat” t…

In his early days in slivermoon, Saki worked the phone lines. Companies in slivermoon stressed in prestige magazines and press releases that it was too hard for them to employ bodies. Bodies were e…

The gates are choked with visitors the morning after the video goes viral.

“They’re ready for you, Captain,” says the voice interface of the Orbiting Transfer Station. The glass in front of me is opaque, and I can’t see into the holding room. My heart sprouts wings and be…

Continued from Part 1) The news the following morning was bad. An explosion in the middle of a market-square in Libya had been variously blamed upon a suicide-bomber and upon over-zealous security…

I never thought I’d want to make a film about the Lost Countrymen and the ghosts that haunt their ship. It’s been years since my brief time with them, but how could I forget them, the ghosts muttering to themselves about worlds long gone? Eyes starry wide, dreaming of a future Earth that would receive […]

A private eye plagued by hallucinations is hired to retrieve a mummified monk’s head stolen from a cathedral--but why would someone want it?

Lorraine sat in the passenger seat of the Buick with four flat tires, applying her usual shade of lipstick.

Last fall’s decaying leaves shifted beneath my feet as I crossed the yard.

Author: Sean MacKendrick Ava touched the seam where Ethan’s robotic foot joined his shin. She stared up at her grandfather in awe. “Can you feel anything with it?” Ethan forced a smile on his face. “Some basic sensory input. It helps me walk better when I can feel the ground.” “You’ve had it for a […]

Anna Lea Jancewicz Once, there was a boy who swallowed a bee. His mother told him not to do it. She wrung her hands like threadbare dishrags and keened, but he didn’t listen because sometimes littl…

I got the message that you are dead, and on your way out to me. I know.  You wanted it to be a surprise. But Marcie continues to send me regular updates about everything you say and do.  Or by now,…

The Womanly Art of Drag Racing, short story by Anna Lea Jancewicz

Daily Science Fiction is an on-line magazine specializing in science fiction, fantasy, and everything in between. A new story is published every weekday and sent to subscribers via e-mail, and stories appear a week later on dailysciencefiction.com.

Doctor Spencer has brought me an artist. My eyes on the outside of the building register the identity of everyone who enters, including her: Suzanne Chantal Salinas, age 26…

The video stutters at the eighteen-second mark. Yakova knows by heart precisely when it happens. As she watches, she mouths the words along with Autumn. “So this girl just, like, opens up her bag…

Engineer’s meat wept and squirmed and wriggled inside her steel organ cavity, so different from the stable purr of gears and circuit boards. You couldn’t count on meat. It lulled you with its warmth…