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Latest Stories

December 08, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Angel Who Never Returned

Aslam was taken to the city hospital after he fell off from the road down into the riverbed almost thirty feet below. All of his family members rushed to the river, but before they could reach, a pure gentle soul stopped his jeep, jumped into the water, and…
December 08, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

New Nemesis

Grimly I faced the immense, sphere-shaped, steel sealed doorway of the multi-dimensional cyberspace portal, wondering what joker put the sign on it: "Abandon all hope to all ye who enter here." "I hate Mondays," I grunted, shrugging my shoulders to make the…
December 08, 2025
Fantasy Stories Tom Kropp

Temerity

Quinshale the sorcerer smiled at the Zergon tree that loomed over the forest clearing. Its trunk was broader than a dozen barrels, and its limbs reached high into the azure sky. Its foliage was a kaleidoscope of iridescent colors. Its limbs eerily arched…
December 08, 2025
Flash Fiction Abdul Basit

When Understanding Sat Between Us

People from Dera Ismail Khan often grow up with more than one language around them. My own childhood was full of soft sounds of Saraiki spoken in homes and bazaars. Our people wear shalwar kameez with pride, enjoy hot chai at any hour and are known for their…
December 08, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Adolo

Captain Adolo was a tall, terrifying, warrior woman. Her athletic figure was all solid, lean muscle, crisscrossed by battle scars. Her eyes were a pale blue set in an attractive face marred by scars, including a wicked one through her left eyebrow and cheek.…
December 08, 2025
Horror Stories Alizah Zaidi

The Case Of The Missing Time Capsule

When the letter arrived, postmarked from my old town, I almost didn’t open it. Fifteen years had passed since I last set foot in Ridgegrove, and that distance had softened memories I spent years trying to bury. But the moment I saw the school’s crest stamped…
December 08, 2025
Romance Stories Syed Zeeshan Raza Zaidi

The Chenab's Embrace

The river was the pulse of Gujrat, and for Sohni, its ceaseless murmur was the only constant companion to the fire that raged in her father's kiln. She was the daughter of a master potter, a creature born of river silt and ancient clay, her hands delicate yet…
December 08, 2025
Poetry Markus J

6 Days Of An Aussie Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me a koala in a gum tree On the second day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me Two swimming platypuses, and a koala in a gum tree On the third day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me Three jumping…
December 04, 2025
Horror Stories Alizah Zaidi

The Apartment That Remembers

Elias Trent signed the lease for Apartment 4B on a damp Sunday morning in October—one of those mornings when the sky felt heavy with secrets. He had moved to Hawthorne City for a fresh start, a quieter life, and an escape from the noise of the world. The…
December 04, 2025
General Stories Ben Macnair

The Silent City

John awoke not with a jump, but with a profound, unsettling lack of noise. Usually, Tuesdays in his high-rise apartment were an orchestral assault: the insistent moan of the sanitation truck, the 7:05 a.m. argument between Mrs. Petrovich and her potted fig…
December 04, 2025
Crime Stories Ben Macnair

The Shoplifter

The city was a bruise, the sky a bruised purple at dawn, bleeding into a sickly yellow by noon. Sarah knew its various shades intimately, mostly from beneath the hoods of stolen jackets or the weak, flickering bulbs of forgotten alleyways. She was a ghost in…
December 04, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Shannon's Date

Recently I testified at a murder trial. My big brown Quarter Horse named Buster snorted and stomped his hoof with clear protest at the prospect of moving farther into the forest patch. It was a cool September evening with the sun slipping over the horizon in…

Some say that it was an argument that started over passing the butter as the mother celebrated her 50th birthday at sea.  Others say that they heard the words “What’s that suppose to mean?!” before it started.  Yet for whatever twisted reason, an apple was thrown by the youngest daughter.

After the event, a table nearby reported to the captain that all five family members were involved.  There was screaming, cursing and food in the air that dreadful evening on the cruise ship.

The apple found no target and then every possible particle of food was thrown.  It didn’t stop with food; condiments, flowers and utensils were used as weapons.  The husband, having not warmed up his arm properly for a food battle, threw his arm out with his very first toss of cauliflower.  Having one arm lifeless next to him, he then had to resort to throwing food with his left arm and later just squirting condiments.  His son yelling out “YOU THROW LIKE A GIRL!” was overheard by the band members that stop playing.  It was a very sad scene on the sea to nowhere.

It was apparent to many that this tragedy will only come to an end by one thing – pure exhaustion.

The captain, in a full white uniform, arrived and yelled out “DON”T MAKE ME TURN THIS SHIP AROUND!” The commanding and powerful figure quickly changed when he was hit in the chest with a Chicken Parmesan patty.  The red stain appeared as thought he was shot in the chest.

It was after this chest stain occurred, things turned even worse.  The younger daughter grabbed another apple, obvious to others her preferred arsenal for the evening.  The fruit was intended for her smiling and taunting sister across the table.  Of course, once again, an errant toss happened.

It is ironic in life how things occur.  Some say that events happen for a reason.  Others believe that our destiny is in place throughout our life.  For whatever reason, Gramma Emma’s destiny was set as the apple left the daughter’s finger tips.  Sitting next to the food fight table was an old and feeble grandmother.  Emma was about to celebrate her 100th birthday at the stroke of midnight just two hours away.  The band was prepared to play “Happy Birthday” at that time.  A huge cake was to be rolled out, enough to feed all those in the dining area.  It contained a lone candle that represented a century of birthdays.  Emma’s favorite son looking exhausted after a sleepless night worrying about his prepared speech.

The apple seemed to take hours in flight before hitting Gramma Emma in the temple.  She left this earth in no pain.  It was instant.  Her face fell gentle into her mash potatoes.  Mash potatoes she had grown to love over the years as the only food that she could eat.  Mash potatoes that welcomed her to her last seconds on earth.  Mash potatoes that kept her alive the past few years were now bringing her home safely to a better journey.

In the end, it wasn’t exhaustion that would bring this family to stop the shenanigans.  It was not the lack of food since the waiters continued to bring food to the family during the fight.  It was not the captain’s commanding and powerful words that could stop the horror; it was Emma.

At port, as the family was taken off in handcuffs, there was much shouting and screaming by the passengers.  “I hope someone in prison hits you with an apple” was heard, “Hey condiment man, how does it feel to be mustered up a conviction?!” caused some chuckles in the crowd.  There was a large gathering on the dock after the twelve hour CNN broadcast “Cruise Food Murder at Sea”.   Pictures of past pets of the family were shown.  Neighbors interviewed captured the father’s brother saying “I hope they all get what they deserve!”.  Mother’s friends claiming that they never knew her – “pure evil and never liked” they stated.  High school kids captured on TV jumping up and down yelling “I know a murderer!”  and a large state university on record with “No comment, we have enough problems”.

What was a celebration of 50 years on earth by the mother of three now became a nightmare because of one errant apple.

End

 

John H. Baldwin, born in Youngstown, Ohio USA – October 30th, 1961.  Director of Hardware development for Network Wireless.  Started to write short stories to help deal with the loss of my son.  It has really helped.  This was my first one shared with the family.

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