by Nate Stevens | Aug 1, 2019 | Short Story
What would make dust celebrate? Crouched in a musty corner of a Middle Eastern tomb, I watched as family and friends hurriedly embalmed him, muttering about an approaching deadline. What difference do deadlines matter now? The yellow, reddish-marbled, limestone walls,...
by Nate Stevens | May 14, 2019 | Short Story
I hate bullying—when stronger, more influential people take advantage of the weaker. When I hear of such an attack, something inside revolts and I want to lash out at the offender(s) to make them pay and put them in their place. One such occasion still haunts me....
by Nate Stevens | Mar 12, 2019 | Short Story
“Do you want to be well?” What? Do I want to be well? I bristled at the question. What kind of insensitive thing is that to ask of someone in my condition? Who did this stranger think he is? He does not know me—why would he presume there was something wrong with me!...
by Nate Stevens | Feb 8, 2019 | Short Story
I could have stopped the building from crumbling, kept him from dying a horrible, crushing, embarrassing death. With my power, I could have helped my human assignment escape his disastrous predicament. If only he would have fulfilled his potential. I am accustomed to...
by Nate Stevens | May 21, 2018 | Short Story
I’ve killed many men in battle. As a Roman soldier, I’ve honed the act of killing to an art of precision. You are present, I have a sword, you die. Direct, simple, efficient. I’ve taken so many lives, the fading light in dying eyes no longer haunts me. I now consider...
by Nate Stevens | Apr 1, 2018 | Short Story
His death was agonizing. A more vicious, inhumane demise was unimaginable. Yet, it happened as destined. With his last breath, as spirit separated from broken body, he whooshed through a darkened vortex of time engulfed by eternity. He landed in front of a formidable,...
