TRIGGER WARNING Short Fiction with Pictures

Author

triggerart

The Detailer

Paulino was whistling by the time he got to work. He could not remember the name of the song. It had started running through his head as soon as the alarm went off, and then he heard it in the… Continue Reading →


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Stacy and Her Idiot

  1. You know, soon as the fat guy mentioned his contact in the 18th Street gang, I should’ve just walked away. Wasn’t that I gave a shit who he knew or didn’t. It was the naked and stupid pride… Continue Reading →


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The Man Who Didn’t Believe in Luck

King Randall was a professional gambler who never played hunches or bet on horses with appealing names. He didn’t even read fortune cookies. “No such thing as luck,” he was fond of saying. “There’s the here, and there’s the now,… Continue Reading →


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The Choice

“There is another way,” Siyamak said. On the other side of the single, burning candle, Lomi drew a dagger across a whetstone. Siyamak wanted to look away, but in the flame there were shimmering, incorporeal names. They danced in time… Continue Reading →


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Got To Kill Them All

The sky was getting darker all the time. I set the red can under the glove box and drove away from the pumps, steering with one hand so I could gulp down some coffee. Then I hit the brakes before… Continue Reading →


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From the Editors’ Desk

Readers:  There’s an autumnal chill in the air that will hopefully migrate to your blood stream as you devour Issue #3 of Trigger Warning (in Mistletoe green). On behalf of Thanksgiving, you’re encouraged to gorge on TURKEY SHOOT and as a… Continue Reading →


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The Sisyphus Effect

Marcus Faber lived an average life. He was average height, average build and had average looks. He was married to a very lovely woman named Sara whom he made love to on an average of one point two-five times a… Continue Reading →


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Turkey Shoot

Hey, Teddy. It’s Roger. Roger Ward. You there? If you’re there, pick up. If you’re not there–good. I’m really hoping you’re out of town, way out of town, at your parents’, whatever, having a nice Thanksgiving. I’m really praying you’re not home, screening your… Continue Reading →


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The Trench

Our war was the Cold War. In retrospect it seems quaint and gentlemanly, like stories of WWI fighter pilots saluting their victorious adversaries as their bullet-riddled biplanes went down in flames. I was stationed on a nuclear submarine, the SSBN… Continue Reading →


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