Story Previews
Wie ein Fisch im Wasser
Psychological Fiction
S
he never intended to board that train. The platform was nearly empty, the silence broken only by the distant hum of something approaching. A thin mist clung to the rails, curling around the iron legs of the benches like something alive. The clock above the station entrance had stopped at 11:47 — no one remembered when.
Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away. Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away.
Daniel Fehr
Sepoltura II
Psychological Fiction
S
he never intended to board that train. The platform was nearly empty, the silence broken only by the distant hum of something approaching. A thin mist clung to the rails, curling around the iron legs of the benches like something alive. The clock above the station entrance had stopped at 11:47 — no one remembered when.
Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away. Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away.
Elena Krüger
Der Hartschalenkoffer
Psychological Fiction
S
he never intended to board that train. The platform was nearly empty, the silence broken only by the distant hum of something approaching. A thin mist clung to the rails, curling around the iron legs of the benches like something alive. The clock above the station entrance had stopped at 11:47 — no one remembered when.
Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away. Clara pulled her coat tighter and glanced at the departure board. Every destination had been replaced by a single word: "Midnight." She blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But the word remained, flickering in pale amber against the black screen, as if daring her to look away.
Steven Parker
Zum Steinerweichen
Satire
s
xy
xy
Vanessa Buff