All Stories, Science Fiction, Story of the Week

Commerce and You: A Petrichor Instructional Film by Daniel Finkel


Good morning, and welcome to Volume 12 of The Petrichor Instructional Film Set.

Today, we are going to discuss the subject of commerce. Do you know what commerce is? Have you ever used commerce before? Well, let’s find out together.

Jimmy is nine and three-quarters. He will be ten next January. Then he will be all grown up, but for now he is still happy to help Mother weed the plants, fetch Father his glass of lemonade at the end of the day, and play with his sister, Sally. Say “hello,” Jimmy. Say “hello,” Sally. Jimmy and Sally both say, “Hello.”

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Revelations by Frederick K. Foote


[The contentious and jealous Goddesses and Gods have not perished or retreated to on high or sunk into the depths. I see them hidden in the faces and places I call home.]

Don’t shake dat thing like dat. You give an old man a heart attack. You make a good man go bad. You widen a brother’s eyes, open his nose, scramble his brains and put steel in his dick. You just keep that jelly rolling. Yes, you do. May the Goddess have mercy and the Gods save my sorry soul.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Other Sister by Christopher Dehon


When my older brother and sister stopped telling me that I was adopted, they told me I was an accident. I’d believed the adoption story. I was a pale, pudgy redhead. They were perpetually tanned and lean. By the time I was a teenager, my brother and sister had left me alone with two tired parents who’d imagined being childless by now. The three of us silently ate at the kitchen table with the TV on. One night on the news, this mid-level star from a quickly-canceled pilot visited this autistic kid who called himself his “Number One Fan.” My dad laughed and said to no one in particular “If number one means ‘only.’” He didn’t get it. A-listers have thousands of fans. An A-lister never would’ve made it to this kid’s birthday party.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Storyteller by Louis Hunter

Atop a hill in the moors sits an old man, wrapped in his beloved waterproof. It’s red with black buttons, and only some of them are missing. He sits on a carefully laid blanket, an empty space beside him, and sips from his Thermos. His gaze never shifts from the sister hill opposite him. In the drizzle and the fog, he is waiting for the ghost.

The air is cold and the sky is free to bloom with the tiny flourishes of long forgotten light. Next to the old man is another flask, untouched. He pats the blanket, gives it a tender little rub, and says:

‘She’ll be here soon, just you wait.’

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All Stories, General Fiction, Science Fiction, Story of the Week

Clarisse by James C. Clar


Hawaii is known for its near perfect weather, but a new report from the University of Hawaii’s Sea Grant program states that islands in the Pacific might be unrecognizable in the coming years as climate change makes them hotter, arid, stormy and even disease-ridden.

Huffington Post 8/28/2014

Experts have found very high levels of cesium-137 in plankton living in the waters of the Pacific Ocean between Hawaii and the west coast.

Nuclear Emergency Tracking Centre

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Your Scheduled Recording by Louis Hunter



Mary wanders home and dreams of television. She has all her favourite shows recorded, ready and waiting to be watched. She passes a sign for fried chicken. It flickers overhead, metal shutters pulled up, open for business. At home, Mary knows, there are jacket potatoes in the oven and a beer in the fridge.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Dancing in Amsterdam by Tobias Haglund


Every fifteen meters the light from a lamppost shines. The rivers running through the town reflect their lights. The water often flows smoothly. An occasional wave might pass by, but I barely notice it.  If it wasn’t for the rainfall I wouldn’t believe I live in a coastal city. Five or six small boats are anchored by a one-way street on my side. No anchoring on the other side. The river is narrow enough to see across which causes most people to shut their drapes.  Shadows move to and fro. There’s a couple on the second floor who are particularly animated. They dance, I think, or perform sketches. I sit by the window at my computer and try different songs to match their rhythm. I’ve tried to listen by opening the window, but I can’t hear a thing other than the city noises. Not that I live in a busy part of town, just a forgotten side-street between two busy river crossings. There is always a car somewhere, a loud conversation around the corner, a bottle being broken or something that breaks the attention. The cities are growing even more crowded. Oddly enough I read that the cities are not growing louder. Hundreds of years ago the city was smaller but louder. The blacksmith would bang his hammer on the anvil. The hooves of a horse echoed in the streets. There were no phones or microphones. You shouted to be heard. Maybe that part hasn’t change. Maybe we still shout. To be heard is to be seen and we all want to be seen. I wonder how Victoria sees it. She must know about me and Patrick.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Table for Four by Louis Hunter



‘A judge tells a condemned man he’s going to hang next week, but he won’t know when until the hangman comes a-knockin’. The judge only says one thing, that it’ll be a surprise.’ The man with dark rimmed spectacles pauses to smoke, his hair is black and slick with Brylcreem.

‘So, when he’s locked up and waiting to be hung, this guy thinks to himself: “This shit ain’t fair, they have to tell me when I’m going to die. I’ve got rights.” So he decides to work it out. He figures if hasn’t been hung by Thursday, he can’t be killed on Friday because it wouldn’t be a surprise, he’d know it was coming.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Humour, Story of the Week

Pow Wow Travels by Darlene P. Campos


“This truck is so old, Chief Sitting Bull drove it to his senior prom,” I said to Larry Kicking Bird as he got onto Highway 18.

“Quit your bad mouthin’ on my truck, James Eagle. How on earth do I get to Sioux Plains from here?” Larry asked.

“Easy, easy. Sioux Plains is pretty close to where Sitting Bull grew up. Put your truck on cruise control and it’ll remember where Sitting Bull’s senior prom was.” Larry sped up to about 80 miles an hour, but not long after, a cop tailed us.

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