All Stories, General Fiction

Volunteer by David Patten

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So is it true, the girl with electric blue hair began in mock contemplation, that toilets flush the other way in New Zealand?  She set a half empty bottle of Carlsberg on the bar and looked at Connor, her face all anticipation.  Connor was absorbed in pulling the perfect pint of Guinness.  Not the first time he’d been asked this.  The brew settled, he removed the excess foam with the deft swipe of a plastic spatula and placed the beer on a coaster in front of the girl’s aloof boyfriend.  He could smell the leather of their jackets.  Toilets, sinks, showers, Connor answered, nodding for emphasis.  He knew it was a myth.  Satisfied, the girl slapped her boyfriend lightly on the arm as if she’d just won a bet.

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All Stories, Historical

Burial of a Dark Charger by Tom Sheehan

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battle of chancellorville

Looking from one end of a story to another is enlightening in most circumstances. Often the surprises on tap happen out of the blue … or take a piece of forever to come around.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Bulls and Blood, Line and Lineage by Chitra Gopalakrishnan

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“Wake up, rascals. See who is here,” trills our aunt Sivamathi.

Her high-pitched shrill vibrates off her tongue against her palate and pierces through our sleep.

“It must be Muttu, that rickety idiot, come to torture us with puzzles,” I guess.

With sunshine trembling on our eyelashes and seeping into our bodies, we two brothers continue to stretch ourselves lazily.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Autumn Eyes Lost, Autumn Eyes found by Anmitra Jagannathan

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Callahan wishes the voices would stop, but they never do. Some are soft as a caress, some are screamed out shrill. Some are wistful sighs of longing, some are determined mantras. Some are woven with glee, some are drowned in sorrow. No matter what they are, they never stop, swirling around his head, taunting him to listen, daring him to comfort, daring him to help, daring him to laugh, daring him to cry.

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All Stories, Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Byrds Syndrome by David Henson

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Long time site friend David Henson has published everything from tragedy to jocularity with us. He excels at stretching reality until you believe that, why yes, I can see a future in which handling a black mamba for forty seconds without dying can improve one’s credit score.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 380- Doctor, Doctor Please; The Week That Is and Hey Could You Play Another Someone Diseased Somebody Wrong Song?

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It Hurts When I Do That…

Everyone has a touch of hypochondria in them. I have more than a fair share; for me the constant certainty that I am dying began in the third grade.

Our teacher, Mrs. West, assigned desks in alphabetical order. With an “A” surname not only did I usually set the bar for futility in P.E. (for I was and remain as athletic as a cactus), but when the subject was arranged-seating, I’d be in the first row, close to, if not in front. For five years (until her family relocated to California after the fifth grade) I could count on Veronica Allen to be seated in front of me. Ronnie and I were friends because I made her look like Wonder Woman when we had to fall in line for chin-ups in second grade (she sort of did one, then I began my athletic career as The Reliable Zero–I considered it my way of making the other kids feel better about themselves).

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All Stories, Fantasy

Jack in the Green  by Lee Stoddart

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My simple wooden church was all-but empty when I stepped up to the pulpit to give mass to the congregation. I had half expected it.

When Beltane fell on a Sunday, it seemed to draw out the heretical tendencies of my flock. Every year, they would abscond to some secret glade in the woods, to celebrate the coming of the summer, to pray to a heathen god for verdant growth and an abundant harvest. This year was no different.

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All Stories, Fantasy, Science Fiction

Sexed by Mark Saba

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It took seven minutes of her time, seven minutes of his time, and time was as precious as ever to them. He was on his way to a potluck breakfast (for which he hadn’t even bought his dish yet) and she was on her way to buy a new dress for her mother’s wedding before going to work. Neither of them had time for this but, luckily, it didn’t take much time. Everyone was in agreement about that.

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All Stories, Horror

Home Remedy By Young Tanoto

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Yunmin lived in a patchwork apartment–mismatched, patched, and paper-thin, held together by red thread and a prayer. There were words on the walls; looping, colorful cursive on the mirrors and windows, written in whiteboard marker. He once admired it: the sharp ink, the crisp angles, the spider-like intricacy of every line and dotted letter. To sit and look about his mother’s house was like being trapped amidst a pastel and most perfect plague.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Historical

Flashing Mirrors at a House Built in 1742 by Tom Sheehan

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I leaned against the largest maple tree, planted hungry years before upon a leech trench in my back yard, watching my going out of me at play and shining the souls of mirrors back, telling each other what we knew.

I loved him from the tree, later a window dark-squared above the wide grass, as I leaned toward his hands moving out of himself, making; and the corners of the house, the inners and outers hammered upwards from my hand in late repair.

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