Category Archives: Fiction

Today Is The First Day Of The Rest Of Your Life The sign in the window of Eddies store read: New and Used Vacuum Cleaners Sold and Repaired. Salesmen Wanted. Hank opened the door and walked in. A man sitting … Continue reading →

Justin stays up too late watching police-shooting videos online. The only video that doesn’t bring him down is the one with DEA Agent shooting himself in the foot during a school gun safety lecture. The best part is when he … Continue reading →

Up until around 2009, my job was a breeze.  I walked into doctor’s offices with the wind at my back, with the collective weight of the world’s largest pharmaceutical research company driving my pitch.  I wasn’t Dominick Praeger, I was … Continue reading →

“You aren’t…you never listen,” Liz says. We are in the middle of the argument, the place where she always begins to lose her words. Her eyes dart up and down my body like a ferret looking for open skin to … Continue reading →

A man came into the store today and bought the balsa wood jewel box. He was an old man, with deep wrinkles of the kind that a man can’t shave inside. Gray stubble grew from them like grass in sidewalk … Continue reading →

Five in the morning always comes quick when you drink at your work after you get off. You check your watch and say I’m just going to have a couple when you start drinking at two thirty but then it’s … Continue reading →

The editors of The Whistling Fire are all too familiar with the necessary evil of balancing a day job with our writing; as well as the difficulty of balancing that with our work here at The Whistling Fire and everything … Continue reading →

After dropping off her children at a school in Hampstead, Marie Antoinette went to an English seminar to improve her language skills. After class, she attended her thrice-weekly Pilates workshop, and then had a light lunch at a café in … Continue reading →

Clare Bowdy sat at her kitchen table and made a list of the dozen or so experiments she conducted over the past few weeks. What’s meant by experiment is a little test involving just Clare, not scientific so much, but … Continue reading →

She goes by K.C. because Karen Christiana is a burden her mother placed on her – one she simply can’t carry. But she can be a K.C. She can be a K.C. and she can work the desk at the … Continue reading →