All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Chicagogh by Dave Louden

You can rent Van Gogh’s bedroom on Air BnB for ten dollars a night.  We were on the final leg of our cross-country expedition when we ran into Chicago and out of money.  When we left Venice West we were intertwined in one-another firmer than the Treaty Oak’s roots, somewhere around Lincoln Nebraska we suffered our own poisoning.  By the windy city it was more than just a cold shoulder.  We checked our pockets.  Seventy-two dollars in change and we still needed to get to New York where our flights home were waiting on us.

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All Stories, Latest News

Week 134 – An Appeal, Kathryn Toolan And No Punctuation.

I get a bit of a break this week as we have another one of those now and again Saturday Posts.

I’ll get the reviews done first and then I’ll introduce our special posting.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction

Skipping by Hugh Cron

The two of them laughed as they skipped into the woods.

“You are rubbish!”

“I know sweet cheeks, my coordination is terrible.”

“It’s step forward, pause, step forward other foot, pause, step forward only quickly. Sing ‘Mary Mary, Quite Contrary…And You’ll get it.”

He tried.

They both bent over laughing.

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Adam’s Nova by K. E. Farkash

Nova reared up on his haunches and waddled after his prey. As big as an astronaut’s helmet, he had the tan, short-haired head and paws of a Boxer, but from nape to ankle he resembled an Apatosaurus; long in the neck and tail, hunchbacked, potbellied, and girthy in the lower extremities. He dropped to all fours, broke into a sprint, and gained on MR, the outpost’s Maintenance Robot.

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All Stories, Historical, Short Fiction

November Moon by Sharon Frame Gay

The moon’s on its way to November, sailing a sullen sky.   I think the whole world breathed a sigh of relief tonight, when the major told us to find shelter, get some shut eye before tomorrow.  We’re too close to the enemy for camp fire, all of us hiding behind trees, and under bushes, keeping as quiet as smoke, settling into the dirt and leaves like animals on the prowl.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Sweet Boy by Matthew Lyons  – Adult Content

When they can’t ignore the stink coming from his room anymore, Mom and Dad break the lock on Jeff’s door and go in, prepared, they think, for whatever happens next.  It’s not like they don’t have an idea anyway, they still do all his laundry.  There’s not a sock in his hamper that isn’t stiff and crusty and yellowed.  Mom doesn’t even gag about it anymore it happens so much, she just makes sure to wear latex gloves when she does the whites.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why they always smell like sugar.

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All Stories, Latest News

Week 133 – Principle, Discipline And Lactic Acid

Before I begin, I would like to welcome Nik back from his holiday. He was in Wales doing all things Welsh. As is my understanding he would be eating really, really, roasting, hot loaves, taming a roaming dragon, drinking Merlyn, seeking out a Max Boyce CD and trying to win a chair. They are a mystical race the Welsh.

It is great to have you back my friend!!

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All Stories, Horror, Short Fiction, Writing

A Murder Of Crows by Hugh Cron

He looked out into the grounds and couldn’t understand the blackness. He thought that it was dead leaves. There had been a storm throughout the night which had unsettled. The dreams had frightened. He became anxious again as he tried to recall. They teased him, they were there hovering near to the edge of his consciousness, without form…disturbing. The Priest gave up and went into his bathroom to shave. The tremor in his hand changed his mind. He rinsed his face and tried to pray, the familiar words, spoken every morning since he entered the Diocese sixty years back were alien to him. They choked him and he felt a tear run down his cheek. It occurred to the old man that maybe he was having a stroke.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Thirteen by Rebecca Young

 

Your first kiss wants to play make-believe. You be the wife and I’ll be the husband, he says during recess. You’re in 3rd grade and love make-believe. He kisses you on the cheek and asks what’s for dinner. You will be whoever he wants you to be.

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