(Recommended Reads) "Special Delivery" By Lily Mulholland

I screw the lid on the flask, being careful not to spill the contents. It took a lot of effort to fill it and I didn’t want to waste a drop. Wrapping the flask in foil to keep it warm, I place it securely in my messenger bag...

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5 Second Fiction Six Hundred and Fifty

Everyone expected Amazing Ed to fight Fuego over leadership of the team, no one expected him to grease himself so throughly.

5 Second Fiction Six Hundred and Forty Nine

This year's reality show hit followed programming executives as they scrambled to create this year's reality show hit.

5 Second Fiction Six Hundred and Forty Eight

Julie was the kind of beautiful, sexually agressive woman all men dreamed of meeting but where then terrified of if they did.

(Recommended Reads) "Morning Commute" by J Dane Tyler

Eddie sat in his usual corner at the back of the train car on the upper deck, face turned to the window. He didn’t look at me when I got to the top of the stairs at the front of the car. Usually he smiles. A woman in the front seat opposite us on the lower level was the only other person in the car. She had a pastel pink and yellow blanket over her outstretched legs, feet on the facing seat, head tipped onto her shoulder. The dark outside tarred the windows. Only stray piercings of light got through when a car passed or a street light went by...

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5 Second Fiction Six Hundred and Forty Seven

It wasn't until his fourth adventure that the Ironcommando discovered that severe allergies and armored battlesuits didn't mix.

(Recommended Reads) "An Unsent Letter From Tommy" by Chance4321

I wonder what your reaction would be if I told you about the chap opposite me who was given hydrochloric acid instead of water this morning. Or of the person in the bed next to me, who I watched peel back all of his fingernails, one by one, the other day. I wonder if I could even tell you the horror of two nights ago. I could lay out the events as they unfolded. The swishing sound that I awoke too. The noise of a struggle. The lights coming on. But I do not know what words I would use to describe the sight of the patients in the beds opposite mine, who’d had their throats and faces slashed. I do not understand myself, let alone feel able to describe how I felt when I saw the patient from bed three standing in the corner with his razor in hand, foaming at the mouth, and who continued to grin even when the guards and orderlies wrestled him to the floor...

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