I suppose it was meant to happen on the first of December. It was then that Christoph died as I believe he foresaw. I’ll tell you that story now.
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My Imagination by Niles Reddick
On the first day at the dig site on Roanoke Island, I’d mostly used the mattock, trowel, and brush. I also realized just how tedious and boring the work of archaeology could be, nothing like the action-packed Indiana Jones movies I had been obsessed with as a child. I’d volunteered for the part time work, partly for the experience, partly to get closer to Alana, the Graduate student supervisor, and partly to impress my professor in hopes for extra credit in the course. We’d heard all the stories in class. In the five years after the Roanoke colony had been established, visitors found it abandoned when they returned from England, its one hundred plus settlers missing, and the word “Croatoan” carved onto the palisade’s wood.
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The Battle Below by Bridget Goldschmidt.
In the third year of the Sectarian War, Colonel Childress’ party arrived early to get the best possible position on the rocky outcropping above the weed-choked field. The battle was due to begin at 10 o’clock sharp, according to the colonel’s sources; although retired, he still retained his military contacts. He checked his large silver fob watch.
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GranCel by Leah Mullen
Wednesdays were egg salad. Strong opening gambit from Linda: she was testing the waters. She and Clint were meeting for the first time. Her carer Lupe had shown her how to use the app which paired her with Clint, she explained, “just before she had to go back where she came from”. That left Linda alone, at the tail end of hip surgery recuperation, still prone to falls but with wits enough about her to click on Clint’s profile. Lucky for both of them, Clint was a fan of egg salad.
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The Pelanconi Flower by Jon Krampner
The Italian Renaissance is one of the crowning glories of western civilization. In Florence, Venice and other cities, men like Leonardo da Vinci shook off the centuries-old slumber following the collapse of the Roman Empire and blazed new trails through the intellectual firmament, sparking a fire in the minds of men and women that continues to this day. But even as they did so, village life continued much as it had for centuries. Our story concerns the remarkable events that took place in one of these villages.
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Auld Author
This piece is another work in translation from Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton. A glimpse of another culture but the lesson or message is, I believe, universal.
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Week 499 – Barefoot And Pregnant, Smoking Fire And Dave’s On Next Week!
Week 499 is now here.
Something came up this week that I want to address and that’s commenting.
This isn’t about any of you lovely people, it’s about my thinking when I comment.
This was brought to light when Dale commented on one of Leila’s early stories and I looked back to remind myself of the tale. I found that there was nothing from me.
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Nice Young Lady Vanishes by Simon Nadel
You haven’t been at work. That’s very unlike you. It’s been a few days. No, weeks. They couldn’t agree on how long but they all agreed it’s extremely uncharacteristic. You’re a model employee, always at your desk by nine, always there until at least five. You’ve been at your job for a few months. No, it’s been a year. A middle-aged HR manager named Dragwood (I didn’t ascertain whether it was his first or last name) looked through a file. He shook his head in disbelief. Wow, five years. She seemed like such a nice young lady, the man they called Dragwood said, like you I’m sure. I’m not at all nice, I didn’t say out loud.
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In the Blink of an Eye by David Henson
“Mr. Jacobs?” someone says. Roger tries to answer but can’t talk, can’t move a finger. His eyes seem glued shut. “You try,” the voice says.
“Honey, do you hear me?” Roger recognizes the voice of his wife, Carolyn.
“Roger, you’re in the hospital. You had an accident.” Roger has no idea what she’s talking about. “This man is Dr. Johnson.”
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What We Discard by Gil Hoy
On Wednesdays, I take my trash down to the curb. You have to wait until 3 pm to bring it down. It gets picked up on Thursday mornings at around 8 am. Our setup is a lot like other New England towns. There’s a blue bin for recyclables, a black bin for regular trash and a brown bin for yard waste.
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literally stories 