Noble X — Episode 17: Brothers
Mike Vinopal, Fiction Mike Vinopal Mike Vinopal, Fiction Mike Vinopal

Noble X — Episode 17: Brothers

“Why are you driving with your hazards on?” Carefully merging into the flow of traffic, John states simply as if talking about the weather, “I am slightly a hazard right now. I know that I’m not well and I want to communicate non-verbally to the other drivers on the road that I am a hazard.” 

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The Green Snowflake: A Christmastime Story
Fiction Guest User Fiction Guest User

The Green Snowflake: A Christmastime Story

We all lean in and blow on the cake candles. Hollering and hugging. Laughing and clapping at once. It’s the sort of moment you know you can’t keep, just like you can’t freeze time, so instead you just look right into everyone’s smile and wish on the future for more moments just like it.

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Tomorrow Will Be Late
Fiction Guest User Fiction Guest User

Tomorrow Will Be Late

She kept running. Wind whipped at our hair and the frenzy in the silhouette was beautiful. I had never been out this far before. Hard to believe home was tucked into one of those cobalt corners of stylized steel that loomed like a frozen storm at the horizon. And so too when I turned again there another storm right in front of me.

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Love Curse
Fiction David Himmel Fiction David Himmel

Love Curse

Fast & Short is a flash fiction collaboration between eight Literate Ape writers. Each was tasked with authoring one piece of flash fiction that would be combined to create a single short story. The writers’ flash fiction needed to serve two purposes: 1. Stand alone as a unique piece of flash fiction and 2. Serve as a vehicle for building a larger story and driving that story forward. Over the next two weeks, Literate Ape will publish all eight flash fiction stories individually with a link to the growing compilation.

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Identifying the Corpse on the Blue Line’s Third Rail
David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel

Identifying the Corpse on the Blue Line’s Third Rail

I turned around. There were wakes of glistening human coolant running down this woman’s forehead. They were almost as long as her airbrushed and bedazzled fingernails. It was too hot for a weave that thick. She kept tapping at it, itchy from all that sweat spewing out from the top of her head. The nails, the hair — how does she function in this kind of heat? There’s no way she worked a desk job, or any job that requires her to type on a keyboard of any kind.

You do?

“I see this shit all the time working for the CTA,” the sweaty woman said. “He’s just some gutter punk.”

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Rib Of Twilight
Fiction Guest User Fiction Guest User

Rib Of Twilight

He wanted to know if I had anything that belonged to her, or what kind of things did she leave behind? And that gave me pause, because I’d never thought of her, or her case, that way before.

Then the question for me got caught between that place where you consider what you might leave behind and what is left to you, which is kind of all the same thing. Like a big merry-go-round of belongings all changing hands from life to life. 

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