Short Story Archives - Page 2 of 4

Stillborn

Thea van Diepen

A dark shape moved among the trees, nearly indistinguishable from ebony night. The wraith-figure stepped cautiously closer to the edge of the forest, glancing once up at the sky. The new moon teased the stars into shining but, despite their brightness, the could not remove the shadow that kept him hidden. He progressed with an almost sinuous grace, nauseating to watch, halting at last beneath the great pine near the house at the edge of the village. Searching each window

If the World Were Flat

Thea van Diepen

There once was a world that was flat. On one side, the sun shone all the time and, on the other side, the moon and stars reigned. Right in the middle of the moon’s side sat a woman who spent her days staring up at the stars with sadness and hope in her eyes. One day a pelican flew from the side of the sun to the side of the moon, and saw the woman, cross-legged at the centre of

The Crystal Mountain

Thea van Diepen

Somewhere in the world is a crystal mountain. People often ask it why it’s made of crystal, to which it replies: “Why does green make you feel happy?” To which a number of psychologists opened their mouths, but the mountain quickly added: “It’s a rhetorical question. I don’t know why I’m made of crystal. Why would I know the answer to that?” To which the philosophers opened their mouths– “Rhetorical question, guys.” Now, inside the mountain were several angler fish

The Kitten Psychologist

Thea van Diepen

There once was a little kitten who had decided that the outside was bad. One hundred percent, unequivocally, without question or shadow of a doubt dangerous. “I mean, why else,” said the kitten, purring and cleaning its paws, “Would we live in houses?” But, alas, one day, the kitten’s humans took it outside. Carried it right out the door. “It was terrible,” the kitten told me over Skype after the event. “One hundred percent, unequivocally, without question or shadow of

The Curious Case of Spontaneous Green Felines

Thea van Diepen

A pile of green cats mews from the centre of my living room floor. I’m not sure what to do. When you’re experiencing a case of spontaneously existing animals—not to mention animals of entirely the wrong colour—it’s difficult to remember your own name, never mind figure out what to do with the creatures. I run over my recent actions, trying to discover some kind of explanation for this occurrence. I made myself a Pop Tart. No. I check what’s in