Short Fiction and Poetry

The car almost hits me. I say “the car.” I should really say “the man driving the car” or even just “the man.” [...]

It’s not that you loved her or felt she saw the best in you. It’s not that you’re sad she’s gone. It’s that she’s gone to Scott McConnell [...]

As far back as my mind can envision, our large eclectic, extended family convened at my grandparents’ Victorian house [...]

DarkWinter Press is thrilled to announce our latest release, the novel The Professional Mourner by Neil Randall [...]

Do  memories  lie forgotten,  buried deep beneath some foreign plot of soil? [...]

A lad sits in shadow at a railway station waiting out the night, dreaming of ocean-deafened escapades, of tidesong. [...]

As they walked through the once-abandoned warehouse, the aromas that surrounded them changed. At the start of the process, there was a scent [...]

Liam and Mick had hatched a plan. They needed some cash for they were broke. They used to care for an older man who’d died that day of a massive stroke. [...]

It was Friday, and while there had been many Fridays past and would be many more Fridays future, at the mansion [...]

Rain slicked the streets like oil under starlight, and three police cruisers screamed past the EZ-Mart[...]