Naria sighed heavily and gathered her auburn hair into a ponytail. How had she been accepted into the most prestigious artistry battle-mage academy in the realm?
“Focus, recruits,” General Peters demanded as he stalked between rows of easels. His voice echoed
A man in a suit dropped a bottle cap on my table at the back of the soda shop. I flipped it over. It had a white dot painted inside. He knew my code, which meant he was part of the underground crime system, but
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Being chased sucks.
Why did I believe my parents when they said we’d be safe in the woods?
“Zombies don’t go way out there,” Dad assured me.
“And it’ll be nice to get away from the madness,” Mom added.
Yeah, well, now they’re zombified just like
As I clicked the holovision remote, images cycled with lazy ease, adding unintelligible noise to my apartment. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, illuminating the stagnant monotony of my life.
The micro-oven dinged and I peeled the cellophane seal from my premade dinner for one.
Detective Conan adjusted his fedora and surveyed the broken glass scattered throughout the flowerbed. At some point last night, an intruder had broken into the Westfield home through this window… supposedly. Nothing had been taken, and the couple living there hadn’t seen anyone.
Conan breathed in through his nose, sorting the area’s scrambled scents.
Fern pressed a wrinkled finger against each of the tiny shamrocks embedded in the mossy roof. “I used to love playing leprechauns,” she mused, turning the miniature clover-colored house in her stiff hands. “Guess you’re not so magical after all.”
Peering inside
“All this trouble just so you can cuddle some alien vultures.” My sister landed our gyro-flyer near one of my video recorders, which was showing a lone adorb. Usually they were in herds of a dozen or so. “A year with
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The wind whipped against the door to Luna’s enclosure. She sighed and snuggled deeper into her cozy bed of straw.
“Good morning, Luna.” A gangly keeper in khaki pants and a green Zoo polo peered at her through the bars. “It’s a beautiful
Jane hunched over her desk, staring at myriad pieces of hardlight holocube projector core. Even through her shade visor, the world was headache-bright. That omnipresent gritty burn seared the corners of her eyes.
She balanced half the core in her palm, slotted in another part. Tried to
I slam the folder shut on my desk.
“Nothing useful?” Detective Rowe asks as he hands me a mug of coffee.
I take a sip, hoping it will provide some mental clarity. “It’s like everyone in that bank had a blindfold on.”
“Detective Williams?” I turn to see the patrol officer manning the front desk walking into the bullpen,
Announcing the winners of the “Encore: Bingeworthy” March 2026 flash fiction contest!
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The cry sends a chill through me, as it does every time I hear it. It always arrives at the height of summer, yet I pray this is the cycle it will not come.
But it does. It always does.
I take out the muting silk and put it in my ears and those of my beautiful daughters.
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