He could hear it. Slowly, cautiously advancing .Building up pressure slowly increasing ever slightly. And then all at once exploding like a cyclone, vibrating,

Paul Finnigan is a short story writer from Ottawa, Canada. He has a collection of short fiction that has been published in both Canada and the United States

The mourners dispersed from the graveside in groups of twos and threes. They paused to pay their condolences to the family, some shaking hands

It is louder than a train passing only inches from our faces. It splashes in our ears, surrounding our eardrums. Its continuous roar is like nothing else

Danny fixated his eyes upon a bursting star of grandiose fireworks, sparkling with eye-catching colors outside the bedroom window. The reflective waters outside captured

“Step into the light, I dare you,” Marshall said as he struggled to contain his laughter.