by Hal Matthews
It was back in the days before the Prophet came, when the World Before was still slowing down and the beasts that had hidden in the shadows were just beginning to rear their ugly heads. That was when the Plantin’ Man sowed his tale.
Continue reading Who Earns the Good Man’s Scorn
Leave a CommentThe Tribunal Hall was rife with tension as the well-dressed ambassadors of more than three hundred different peoples stared at the pale blue maps that hovered at the center. The three dimensional display was speckled with archipelagos of various star systems, glowing either yellow to denote settlement by the Garu peoples or red, the shade of their aggressors.
“Intervention is inevitable,” said the representative from Tarus. It was what his people always said. Warlike and domineering, they’d wrestled their way to galactic dominance by tearing down the civilizations of their neighbors and spring boarding off of their progress until they faced an enemy that they could not defeat. “We take the Tarusian fleet and lay waste to the aggressors, put them back to a single planet and keep them there. They are an untempered and dangerous life form, let them grow unchecked and soon races from this Tribunal will be facing their horde.”
Continue reading The Aggressors
2 Comments“It’s only for a little while.”
The words echoed in Tom’s ears as he sprung out of bed, doused in sweat. He looked around and, seeing he was alone, collapsed back against the mattress, hoping to steal a few more minutes of sleep. But the second his eyes fell shut the alarm blared, bathing his micro-apartment in flashing red light.
Continue reading A Little While
Leave a CommentThump.
The ladder clattered down. A few moments later it was followed by the all too familiar pitter-patter of feet skittering across the upper floor.
“Your turn Lil’,” I said, putting my pillow back over my head. But just like every other night this week she didn’t answer, didn’t even move. She was either suddenly sleeping a lot harder or getting a hell of a lot better at ignoring me. I sighed and hoisted myself up in resignation.
Leave a CommentHank clicked away idly at his terminal, not wanting to return to the drab task of data entry a single second before his unpaid thirty minutes were up. He pulled up his fantasy football roster and sighed, disappointed yet again with how naively ambitious he’d been before the season started. Then in a blink, the roster disappeared. In it’s place was a notepad window with the words “Hi Hank” typed out in the upper left hand corner and before he could even process what might be going on another line appeared beneath it. “Are you ready to play?”
1 Comment“You gonna eat that?”
I looked around. Maybe this was it, maybe this was “too high.” But after the hair on the back of my neck settled back down, my attention shifted back to the level I’d been bruising my thumbs trying to beat. After four more inevitable failures I tossed the controller against the ground. “Dogshit!” I shouted, pulling at my hair.
“It’s not dogshit. You keep trying to go through the undead paladin, you need to go around it. I mean they practically spell it out for you.”
2 CommentsToday my short story, “The Laughing Ones”, is being featured in Flash Fiction Magazine. It is my first time being published and I’m very excited about it. Please stop by and give it a read. Also, a big thank you to all the people who helped me get to this point, it’s a big step on my journey and I couldn’t have done it without the lot of you.
– Hal Matthews
Leave a Comment“Just what do you think you’re doing?” the old man said, waddling over to the sofa. “You know damn well what that much alcohol could do to you.”
The cat’s emerald eyes narrowed and she spat a sharp hiss that made the man step back. “Alcohol?” she said. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me that this is just an ordinary beer, Morgan?” She extended the nails of one claw and peeled back at the cap, popping it free of the glass bottle’s top.
Leave a Comment“I’ll save you some time,” said the faun, pulling the top of the book down so Wendy could see him. “Eventually the words run out.”
1 CommentThe girl blinked a few times and examined the drab faces of the rest of the children in the classroom. Then, wearing a curious scowl, she raised her hand.
I stumbled through the seating chart searching for her name, “Yes Miss…”
“Hamilton,” she finished for me. “But you can call me Maggie. I was just wondering, Mr. Andrews, if we were going to be covering anything about the planets today?” She sprouted a peevish grin, a knowing grin, and somehow I could tell that she had seen through my facade.
6 Comments