All Stories, sunday whatever

Sunday Whatever – They Don’t Walk Alone by M.D. Smith IV

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(Editor’s Note: This fine work by M.D. appears on a Sunday because it features what we refer to–often derisively–a Talking Untalkable. We seldom go for that sort of thing unless it is done with elan or in a well done fantasy. Both are the case here. Just a sweet little reminder from the Eds. that such items, unless loaded with charm, will be met with scorn, Bull Terriers and life insurance pitches–the Eds.)

They Don’t Walk Alone

I smelled the house before I ever saw it. Spirits inside—too many for comfort. Dust so thick it clung to the tongue. Beneath it all drifted the faint electric tang of souls stretched thin by years of being ignored, like old copper wire humming with frayed insulation.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 577: Can’t Teach a Shark to Kill Tofu

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(Elliott the Header Pigeon is on vacation this week. PDQ Peety is filling in and is also  filling  himself with PDQ Pilsner.)

Introduction

I again found myself undertaking the idea of the End of Humankind. Which is not to be confused with the End of the World because that will happen a few billion years from now when the sun dies, at which time it will greatly expand and obliterate everything on out to Jupiter. Like the rabid cur shot dead by Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird a dead sun is still a dangerous sun.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Wolf. Normal by Lynne Curry

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The laptop glows in the dim kitchen, blue light flattening the room, turning the window into a black square that gives nothing back.

I drag the computer closer, rubber feet rasping across the table like a warning.

Resurrection Pass Overnight: Intermediate hike: Good fitness required.

The photo at the top of the event listing shows a line of hikers crossing a narrow bridge, green valley opening beneath them, the future open wide.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Confessions of a Digital Nomad by Dan Shiffman

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Inside Saint Anthony’s Basilica in Padua, he turned to his wife and whispered that he had a “confession to make,” darting three steps toward a dark, vacant box.

“You got me,” she whispered back. She still liked his jokes, even after six years together, three as digital nomads. Pointing to her fitness tracker watch, she reminded him that they each had Zoom meetings starting in thirty minutes.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Stringer by Christopher Ananias

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Extreme Adult Content – refer to the tabs at the bottom of the story

A small dark-haired boy was walking in the fog like a phantom. Lenny Coins thought about his father. How could his father do such a thing—things? But the balloons. What about those?

At the bus stop, Tom waited for Lenny and offered him a Marlboro cigarette. Like he did every morning.

“I’m only eleven. I don’t smoke, Tom.” This was in the eighties when the Marlboro Man rode the range, instead of a hospital bed. Smoking was cool, and serial killers were coming on strong. 

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns: Artificial Love by L’Erin Ogle

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Of all the writers who have appeared on the site, L’Erin Ogle is the one whose name I most expect to turn up on the list of famous writers. She is not a commercial type of writer, but she is just plain so damn good that you’d think that even the doofs who control the money would notice her. But maybe it is for the best that she continues to make her way under her own control and at her own speed.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 576 – Pretty Colours, Being Alert And An Attempt At Misdirection.

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Hello there folks and folkessess. Here we go again and are at Week 576.

Before I start I need to warn you that there is a new virus doing the rounds. If you get it, don’t go to A&E. With this ‘Peekaboo Virus’ go to ICU.

I apologise for that and I despise myself for admitting that it did make me smile. (Mr Cowan once again.)

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