Tag: Romance

All Stories, Romance

Meeting of Minds by Raymond Hopkins

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People have asked just how it was that Sandra and me got together in the first place. I mean, it seems a bit unlikely, if you know what I mean. After all, there’s Sandra, small, educated, a right stunner that makes men choke on their beers at first sight, a snappy dresser that causes men’s eyes to wander rapidly southwards in the hope of even better stuff below, and a helpless looking nature which she uses to good effect when she wants somebody to do something for her. Not that she needs it, as she is quite capable of looking after herself whenever there is nobody else around.

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All Stories, General Fiction

You See, I’ve Been Thru the Desert by Carol Jones

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typewriterThe busted passenger-side wiper flops across my nice new windshield. It started hailing about an hour back, before Albuquerque. Then, on a mountain curve, one-inch ice balls became grapefruit sized, smashing into the windshield of my brand new 1975 Buick Skyhawk like big slushy softballs hurled from the blackness. I honestly don’t know when the wiper broke.

They pummel the glass with a splat. I flinch when the larger slushballs smack the driver’s side. Do I pull on the shoulder? Keep going?

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Extended Meeting by Gary Beck

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The benches in the New York City Clerk’s office were hard and uncomfortable. The wood was worn and shiny from nervous and impatient squirmings. The room was dim and shabby, wearied from processions of the city poor, eager to pay the few dollars for the privilege of marriage, or not eager, but complying with demanding families, resenting the notices of do’s and dont’s, murmuring to the indifferent walls. And behind barred windows, clerks in funereal voices, never calling names fast enough to spare the nervous couples the glances of others. The eyes that have seen it all before; waiting, birth, death, the history of in-betweens, waiting.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Ruby by Simon Barker

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In the chaos following the nightclub bombing the story of Ruby’s disappearance never travelled beyond her immediate community. Ruby had been the daughter of one of the ill paid native porters at the American hotel and during the year in which she turned sixteen two local men had begun fighting over her. One happened to be the chief of police while the other was the chief’s former friend and associate, the organiser of an illegal lottery. This pair had vied in their ambition to have Ruby as a mistress. Ruby’s father, insignificant as he was, did his best to fob them off by spinning some yarn about his daughter’s betrothal to her cousin, the son of the headman back in his home village on the slopes of the volcano. He did this not so much to spare Ruby the policeman or the lottery owner—they weren’t such terrible fellows—but to leverage his daughter’s position. In response the lottery fellow threatened to have the head of the son of the village headman separated from his body and the policemen threated to have the next volcanic incineration of the man’s village brought considerably forward. Ruby’s father sensed they weren’t joking. Certainly not the policeman. So the bombing came as a welcome diversion. But once Ruby’s father had seen off the airport minibuses evacuating the expats and returned to the snarl of shanties at the rear of the now deserted hotel he discovered Ruby had vamoosed. When she hadn’t returned by the next day he guessed either the policeman or the lottery owner had taken advantage of the chaos to make off with their prize.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Lift by Paul Thompson

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typewriterThey recognise each other immediately. At least they think they do – greeting each other with the kind of embrace usually reserved for a reunion, which in many ways this feels like. A few nervous moments pass as they silently try to categorise the person opposite. They both wear name badges and so have no need for formal introductions. They look each other up and down – something normally considered impolite but here it feels acceptable, as though they are merely old acquaintances catching up after a long absence. They share a few jokes about their current predicament, serving as pleasantries before concluding what the other has already concluded.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Last Look by Tom Sheehan

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Shots had been fired in Black Limb, a town in the Dakota territory, a bank teller and a bystander wounded, the thief caught in the middle of the robbery, knocked down by, of all things, a woman sheriff with a badge worn on a most prominent chest, dark and beautiful eyes seemingly full of pity and something else the unsuccessful robber managed to draw from her, him the handsome dog, handsome robber George Crown brought to his dusty knees by a woman sheriff, a knock-out sheriff.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Romance

A History by Nina Loard

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“Good luck.” Peter kisses the top of my head and walks out the door, turning his key in the lock. I sip my coffee, curled up in the leather chair by the window. Finally, the house is quiet. If I prayed anymore, I would pray. The job would mean more stability. Peter hadn’t wanted me to work when we married, but we are past that as an option. As much as I want to be excited for a new start, doubt rolls in and blankets everything. I’m not qualified for the position. I have to go through the motions to show him I’m trying. I hate wasting time. I drain the cold remnants of my cup and allow for one slow, arching stretch.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Romance

An Easy Choice to Make by Hugh Cron – Adult Content

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Mary closed the door behind her, the third chime from the grandfather clock was just a memory from her hall. She walked down the front path into the darkness. It was cold, so cold. Her gloved hand held them tightly; the reason for her torment.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Kyle and David by Logan Fuller

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His heartbeat thunders beneath flesh, muscle and bone. He’s sleeping now, I can tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest. He doesn’t snore, but I can hear a quiet whistle blow from one of his nostrils.

The windows of the car are fogged over, our body heat battling with the cold of autumn meeting winter. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it’s getting closer. I enjoy the first snow of the season. It’s a fresh start, a blank page.

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