All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Air Guitar Eddy by Richard Leise

Because we didn’t know his name, and he played air guitar outside Family Dollar, we called him Air Guitar Eddy.  He had two dogs.  We called the pit bull Pitbull, and the other, a terrier, Funky Bitch.  Funky Bitch was pregnant, bursting at the seams, and she would sit and pant in the shade.  Because it was Family Dollar, Air Guitar Eddy, Pitbull, and Funky Bitch didn’t get much by way of charity.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The Stillness of a Garden Broken by Marco Etheridge

Jakob Pichler cherishes his quiet mornings and the green stillness of his garden. His neighbors have gone off to their day jobs, leaving him in peace. The only traffic that passes the garden gate is the occasional old woman walking a tiny dog. Jakob lights his morning cigar, settles back, and lets his mind wander over the infinite possibilities the morning offers.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Invasive by David Gwyn

A smooth take off and an ascent to cruising altitude set the stewardesses at work. The plane felt stuffier than usual. He was in the middle, his favorite location. He’d been at the front, not first class, but right at that front row, with all that legroom. It just didn’t suit him. He wanted to be appropriately uncomfortable, a badge of honor, a shared suffering. So here he was, middle of the plane, middle of the row. Priest to his right, old woman holding a Pomeranian on his left. He felt like he was living inside a not-that-funny-gotta-laugh-to-be-polite joke that he couldn’t remember the punch line for.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Gary Glitter And The Camel Hair Coat by Hugh Cron Warning- Adult Content

Lee and Harry stood outside their manager’s office. She glowered at them. The music from the communal room was deafening.

“Jesus fuck! Am I not in enough trouble? That’s all I need, Tom and his Gary Glitter infatuation!”

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, Writing

The Duke’s Black Bag by Tom Sheehan

Just pronounced ex-Navy and having breakfast in a small diner in Idaho, road dust claiming him as much as it did his old Ford convertible gracing the parking lot like an abused antique, he met Maybelle Hustings slinging homemade hash, the air full of morning’s riches. She was tall, neat in her apron for a hash house waitress, wore her hair pinned back severely yet evoking promise in its loosing. Corded movements in her neck, supple and graceful but fully pronounced as a woman’s, brought him early hungers, caught him leaning in the booth. Their eyes locked, gave out announcements, were decoded, and then, so as not to embarrass the other, were allowed to wander. Initial signals had been made, and illustrated; acceptance, of some order, duly noted.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 283 – Diane knows that Mambo Isn’t Just Music, A Superhero’s Gongie And Where’s The Portal, For So Many Reasons.

Here we are at Week 283.

I’m hoping Diane adds a wee bit into this.

I thought this week that I’d tell you a bit about how I read the submissions.

Using my eyes is a good start. I tried with my ears but that was just shite.

Continue reading “Week 283 – Diane knows that Mambo Isn’t Just Music, A Superhero’s Gongie And Where’s The Portal, For So Many Reasons.”

All Stories, General Fiction

Mother’s Day by Frederick K Foote

The weather was the culprit. Thunderstorms stranded Ella’s date in Boston.  Flooding in South Carolina kept her son’s girlfriend in Charleston. Ella’s planned evening of formal dress, fine dining, forgettable speeches, and priceless facetime with clients and potential clients was a must-attend event.

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