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Latest Stories

February 06, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

The Lost Williamsen

Coming back from Switzerland, after my wife died, was pretty hard, but I made it. When I landed in LaGuardia airport. I went to go get my luggage. That's where my brother Eddie was, to pick me up and to see the rest of the family. Eddie comes over to me and…
February 06, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Killing & Carnage

The sun was a blood lurid red slipping below the jagged peaks of the Redmount Mountains. For Shannon, its fading light was not a promise of rest, but a countdown to her dark side.​ She pressed her spine against the damp, crumbling limestone of a marketplace…
February 06, 2026
Poetry Markus J

2 Aussie Limericks 2 Aussie Clerihews

once a aussie yobbo named pete who only wore thongs on his feet a bunion grew on his toes and a red wart on his nose over were his days at the beach ------------------------------------------------------ there once was a jackaroo who went by the name of blue…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

My Second Middle Name

San Lázaro no quiere palabras, quiere hechos. Popular Cuban refrain A few hours after I was born, my parents had a conversation regarding my name. The usual practice in Cuba, as in many other countries, was that a baby would have two given names apart from…
February 02, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Year One

T J Tuner, Sonny Turner and Curt Chown January 4, 1976- Ocean avenue, Brooklyn New York: Sonny and his wife are having coffee at 5pm Sunday. His wife’s name is Candy. This is when Candy asks ‘When are they picking you up?’ Sonny says ‘7:30 pm.’ Candy asks…
February 02, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Werewolf Bar Brawl

Shannon returned to the main street and boldly approached the cantina. At the doorway, one of the burly guards boldly said, "We don't allow no outside whores in here. Only Diego's girls are allowed to work here." "Don't insult me. I'm not a whore. I just…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Self-Serving Giraffe

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. Oscar Wilde Grumpff was a Somali giraffe male (Giraffa reticulata) in a herd that inhabited a dry savannah in northern Kenya. He was eighteen feet tall and two…
February 02, 2026
Poetry Markus J

An Aussie Had A Barry Crocker

once an Aussie had a Barry Crocker when he got fined from an angry copper he smoked up his golden ute then said it was real beaut because of this, the fine was made double and his best mate was nicked named blue cooked kangaroo and emu stew gave none to…
February 02, 2026
Crime Stories Shane Horton

Super Detectives (Queen Bee)

The smoke of my cigarette dances on the fire of its embers while I breathe in the tar. Chills silently run along my body from the slow breezes of the city. Exposed skin is cold like chunks of ice from the late winter. Honking, common yelling, and occasional…
February 02, 2026
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Eye Of The Cyborg

Fierce winds whipped across the blood red desert of Dumar and its stormy scarlet skies were filled with soaring starships. A large city sparkled in the hellish light, safe from the storm behind flickering photonic forcefields. It was a volatile planet prone…
January 27, 2026
General Stories J.P. Young

Bittersweet Christmastide In A Winter Wonderland

“Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.” ― Percy Bysshe Shelley “It”s always sumtin”, ain”t it?” – Rico Long ago and far away…Things were like the good old days…and as Rico said, Ray lived for the good olddays…As his wife Katrina was working late at…
January 27, 2026
Fantasy Stories Fayaway & Hermester Barrington

Three Days' Flight to Mitrúvishar

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024 From: John Parchment <dragonwriter@mitruvishar.com> To: Emmett Zuntz <ezuntz@majicorpmedia.com> Dear Mr. Zuntz, thou ASCII Mephistopheles, I hereby tender my resignation to Majicorp Media. When I left my secure-but-boring…

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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