Following are some J. C. Conway Stories (with the first few lines of each) available on the internet for a free read or listen. Please enjoy. Some of these stories are also available in my eBook Anthology Another Wrong World: and other offbeat tales.
(Click on the image to follow link to the story)
“I can’t help feeling everything’s an illusion—nothing we sense here is real.”
Meg, in full battle armor, remains poised for action. “Get a grip, Jake. Colonel hears that, you get retrained.”
The horizon wavers. Jake tenses and pre-charges his slammer. A sweat bead slips down his face. Seconds pass.
Worlds Less Traveled, Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway
CLICK HERE FOR AUDIO from Comets and Criminals
(First Published by Perihelion, July 12, 2013)
My anti-psychotic field shifts to low-power mode. Sparkling clarity rushes in.
On Brumal, lightyears from Earth, I activate my Pocket Paralegal, Penelope. Her soft voice resonates in my ear. “Yes Mr. Maynard?”
I respond sub-audibly. “The McLeary generator is failing…”
Solitaire handball was not enough. Bobby Fisk kicked his dusty rubber ball and surveyed the neighborhood. Madison Tucker played in her shabby yard with a set of construction toys. Bobby jammed his hands into his pockets and sneered. “What’re you doing?”
Madison didn’t respond…
November Elf, Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway
First Published by Hogglepot on November 11, 2012
I paused between the office and the parking lot to appreciate the feel and smell of the glistening, rain-washed city. The towers of glass and marble, framed by now-cloudless skies, sparkled in the low afternoon sun. In that instant I was not an aging attorney forgetting deadlines, phone numbers and birthdays. I was a creature, alone and at one …
Shelly should have been a shoe-in for the Master’s program. She was smart, her professors liked her, she knew how to write … but she met Justin her sophomore year, and for twenty months she decided her social life was more important than school. She still had a shot at it, but only if she proved herself this final semester…
I selected a secluded clearing overlooking the south ledge. The surface was spongy with a lush, thick moss-like covering. The locals’ focus was the valley—their attention was always there, looking for the reflection of their children, or of something that would tell them what they felt they needed to know.
Letters to the Luminiferous Aether
Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway
First Published by Bewildering Stories on June 11, 2012
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Garvey, Thank you for your letter…
From return correspondence it appears Mr. and Mrs. Garvey are in a relativistic fix. Is there a solution to their plight? And if so, will the Garveys welcome it, or dread it?
The Bender Beamer, Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway
First Published by Lark’s Fiction Magazine on May 13, 2012
The world ends twice a day; three times on Sunday.
Junior Bender Wanted to believe it. It was the closest thing to advice his father had ever provided. But all it meant was nothing is carved in stone–fresh starts happen every day.
He could use a new start now…
Time, Heat and a Smoking Ember, Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway (First Published by Daily Love on May 10, 2012)
Presently Available to read at Inkitt
Gina should have said, “No thank you.” Then she would be home with her slippers and tea. It would have been much simpler. She checked her eyes in the rear view mirror. She’d done a shabby job on the shadow—not very subtle at all. But it would have to do…
The day comes too soon. I work up the length of the crop terrace. My waist-high row is lined with scrawny beets sucking what they can from the muck of the nutrient stream. Across is a row of an old Earth grain called barley, followed by eight rows of sheet fungus and more rows of stuff we call food, lining the curved floor that turns up and out of sight…
Exit Strategy, Copyright (c) 2012 J. C. Conway
First Published by 365 Tomorrows on Feb. 2, 2012
Grant pushed through the crowd, ignoring the direction indicator. He longed for elbow room and privacy, luxuries of a forgotten past. But rumor had it there were still places–distant, underpopulated islands. He only dreamed of reaching their shores … until today.