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Latest Stories

November 25, 2025
Crime Stories ML Strijdom

Falling Souffles

The oven timer ringed, and I slid out a tray of ginger cookies. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wrapped Knead Bakery in a cozy winter blanket, until Vincent walked in. His gaze is hungry, with thin chapped lips curling into his usual slick smile. His…
November 25, 2025
General Stories Onyinye Maureen Kenneth

Long Night

Nuru Jibri was not observant enough to take cognizant of the armed men as they drove in through the back gate. They came in by 10:30pm. Their vehicles were as firm as the Armored Vehicle of the German soldiers in World War II. Loaded with fiercely Bold men,…
November 25, 2025
Fantasy Stories Christopher Stolle

True Calling And Response

Doctor Who first met William Shakespeare when the future playwright was contemplating marrying Anne Hathaway (no, not that one). The good doctor wondered what Willie was like as a struggling actor who wanted so much more from his life than being a poor player…
November 25, 2025
Romance Stories Jeff Ronan

The Only Thing That Brings You Back

Whenever Layla thought of him, he would return. While shopping for groceries, she’d spot that mango drink he liked, and Theo would appear at the end of the aisle. She would lie awake in bed, imagining the weight of him on top of her, and there he would be at…
November 25, 2025
Flash Fiction Pat Raia

No Talking Day

It was some kind of Catholic retreat day – Lent maybe – I don't remember. But my elder cousin Judy was required by the Mother Superior of Sienna High School to spend the day in total silence exercising discipline, pondering her religious beliefs, and…
November 25, 2025
Fantasy Stories Frank Talaber

A Wizardly Christmas

I came from salt water and will return there one day, dreaming of past lives as the oceans move in their mysterious ways. Other lives, other worlds away, Thomas the former Great Magix of Magixes of Cramadran opened his eyes and stared out of his Vancouver…
November 25, 2025
Mystery Stories Michael Edward Reilly

The Painting The Artist The Frame

VICTORIAN MURDER MYSTERY. “ Jeffrey , Jeffrey Brailsford when did you get back from your travels across Europe “?“ Your Majesty, I arrived back 2 weeks ago “. “Where did you go, how long for, I don't quite remember that “.“ It was a trip for 3 months, I…
November 25, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Homicide Astral Agent

Prostitute Dana Wilkins stood five foot two and weighed 105 pounds with a lean figure. Her long auburn hair framed an average looking face with dull brown eyes expressing agony. She was naked on a steel table with all her limbs restrained. She had torch…
November 25, 2025
General Stories Syed Hassan Askari

Two Souls Hanging From One Rope

The morning was quiet when the call came. The SHO said only one sentence: “Come quickly. Your daughter is hanging.” Sania was twenty years old. Soft-spoken. She was gentle and kind. Four years earlier, she walked into her marriage with high hopes, believing…
November 25, 2025
Flash Fiction Abdul Basit

The Melody That Never Played

The sky over Darazinda Tehsil often looked calm, but inside many homes, lives were ruled by fear and old customs. In one of those homes lived Gulalai Khan, a 22-year-old student of English Literature and Language. She was deeply interested in books and…
November 25, 2025
Crime Stories Andrew Nickerson

Three Calls

-June 19, 7:04 p.m. “Hello?” “Is this the home of Johnny Westing?” “Yes, this is his dad, Ian. Who is this?” “My name is Joshua Harlow—” “Oh, you’re the one who just moved into the Howards’ old place?” “Yes, that’s me.” “What can I do for you?” “It’s about…
November 25, 2025
General Stories Ross Salvage

Old Harry’s Game Human Interest Salvage

It’s twelve o’clock on one of those autumnal spring days. The clouds hang expectantly, waiting to pour their copious contents on unsuspecting recipients; gone are the mare’s tails of the morning’s optimistic outlook. Unaware of the drama above, small children…

That’s the Dude right there

See the dude in the trench?

Yeah, that one.  Long, tan trench coat. Black slacks; hard-soled dress shoes; black, too. My man is wearing a beret.

Every day he's on the block, not doing anything but smoking those nasty fruit-flavored cigars and talking to the street people. He’s always dressed like he's going to work, which I guess is appropriate -- that's his job now: hanging on the corner by the store.

He'd be a great snitch. All the people he hangs with are classic street people. But he also knows everyone and everything that's going on in the neighborhood. And if any stuff went down he'd be the guy to ask.

What strikes me is my man is never sloppy. He even comes back from the cleaners with a load of fresh shirts

"I'll wear the white one Monday, when I'm standing in front of the bodega...Tuesday's blue, for when I'm standing in front of the Chinese restaurant... The plaid one is for the Laundromat... Yellow for when I'm standing in front of the Somali convenience store.... And the pink button-down for casual Friday, when I'm standing in front of that Mexican joint that closed last year...”

He's also the dude who I staggered up to one night, drunk as – you know, and asked who he was. Now I can't remember his name for the life of me.

When I asked him who he was it was because I was interested in who he was.

Also I was really drunk.

Anyway, brother is hanging on to his dignity.

I get it too -- I just think it's interesting.

Fewer and fewer people like that.

There was another old dude I'd run into on the street every now and then; always dressed, even on the hottest day. Bright shirt, loud tie, but he was clean. People would try to crack on him for being dressed up with nowhere to go, but he never cared. All he'd say is that you've got to be sharp if you want to get the women. I never did see him with a woman, but i understand: it was about being who you want to be.

At the end of the day, they all come from the same place: wife dead, or never had one; kid gone, or never had any; all he’s got now is some nice threads, and stories – and he’s happily sharing both.

I don’t know if I should fear it or embrace that one day that old dude might be me.

The End

Joseph P. Williams Jr. and Jamie C. Ruff and just two old dudes who are old friends …

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