by TJ Hayes | May 27, 2026 | Exoplanet Explorer, Flash Fiction
Feb 23rd, 2024. I didn’t sleep last night. Not properly, anyway. I lay in bed until about four in the morning with every light on, which is apparently what a brave thirty-one-year-old man does after discovering a possible alien spacecraft in the woods. He curls up...
by TJ Hayes | May 27, 2026 | Flash Fiction
The bell for curfew had long since fallen silent, yet John de Maltone still heard it in his blood. It seemed to go on tolling beneath the vaulted dark of St Helen’s, deep and slow, as though the stone itself remembered the hour when honest folk had barred their doors...
by TJ Hayes | May 27, 2026 | Flash Fiction
She had been found on the riverbank with burrs in her hair and water darkening her stockings, speaking in a voice too calm to be sane. “Late,” she said. “Late late late.” Her sister’s name was given. The family’s address. The family’s standing. The proper apologies...
by TJ Hayes | Feb 2, 2026 | Flash Fiction, Poetry
A Life Not Measured Week One Calvin Drake woke to birdsong and the smell of wet earth. Real birds. Real earth. It was incredibly disorienting. Green light filtered through a humid canopy. His body ached as if gravity had thickened during his sleep. His breath...
by TJ Hayes | Feb 12, 2025 | Flash Fiction, Poetry
Red pill or blue? Brother, I chugged down the whole damn bottle, consequences be damned and now my world, my life, my soul exist in some swirling, whirling topsy turvy, state of perpetual purpleness. Is it all some dream, some nightmare? A prison for unruly...
