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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…

Don Young was a petty thief. He focused on robbing any place that looked easy like quickie marts and mom and pop stores. His wife, Karen, was constantly nagging him to change his life. “Get out of the robbing business Don. What you’re doing is wrong.  I don’t want to be married to a thief.”

“Karen, what else can I do? I don’t have any skills. I don’t have a high school diploma. What do you want me to do?”

“You’re young. You could go to school and learn a trade. Don, one of these days, something terrible is going to happen to you.”

“What can happen, Karen? I don’t rob any places that have guards. What can happen?”

“Don, stop being a thief or I’m leaving you.”

“Okay, okay. Just one more job. Tonight will be my last. I promise.”

“Okay. You’d better mean it or else.”

That night, Don held up a man in his small grocery store. “Give me all your money, or else.”

“Okay, mister. Okay,” the man said, opened the register, took out a gun and shot Don.

The police came, identified Don, and took the body away. His identification led them to his wife to whom they gave the news. “Mrs. Young, I’m sorry to have to tell you that your husband was shot and killed by a man whose store he held up,” Officer Harper said.

“I knew it was going to happen,” she said sobbing. “I told him something terrible would happen if he didn’t stop. He didn’t listen.”

The officers left, and Karen sat on her couch and sobbed. Several minutes later, the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Karen, it’s me, Don.”

“Is this a joke? Don is dead. Who is this?”

“Karen, I’m telling you it’s me, and I am dead. Karen, I’m in purgatory.”

“Purgatory? Okay, who is this and what’s going on?”

“Karen, there are a lot of dead people waiting to use the phone. I’ll call you back later,” he said and hung up.

Karen sat back. “It sounded like Don, but Don is dead. Purgatory? We never believed in all that stuff.” After a few minutes, the phone rang and she answered it. “Hello?”

“Karen, it’s me. Karen, you gotta get me outta here. The place is crawling with dead people, and one of the guys who runs the place told me that some of the dead people are gonna take their elevator upstairs, and some are gonna have to take the down elevator downstairs. Karen, I know they’re gonna send me downstairs. You gotta get me outta here before it’s too late for me.”

“Jeez, Don, how am I supposed to get you outta there?”

“Go talk to somebody who believes in this stuff. Find a priest and find out how to get me outta here,” he said and hung up.

Karen went to a church where she found a priest lighting candles. “Excuse me. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course, my child, how can I help you?”

“Uh, this might sound strange, but do you believe in purgatory?”

“Of course. Catholics believe there is purgatory. Why?”

“Well, uh, suppose someone is in purgatory and wants to get out. How can he get out?”

The priest looked at her as though she was crazy. “Uh, my dear, souls in purgatory are of the dead. When you’re dead, you’re dead. From purgatory, the dead go either to a heaven or to the underworld. That’s a rule. There are no lateral moves. When you’re dead, you’re dead.”

“So, there’s no way to get out of purgatory?”

“Yup.”

“Thanks,” she said and went home. When she got home, she locked the door and went into the living room where she found a man sitting in her easy chair. Everything he wore was black. His hair was black and combed back exposing a widow’s peak, and his skin had a reddish tint.is HHHhhhh “Hey, who are you? How’d you get in here?”

“Calm down, my dear. I am your friend, and I entered your apartment through the door. The usual way.”

“What are you doing here?  What do you want?”

“I’m here to help you. I can get your husband out of purgatory and bring him back to you. My sources told me that your husband is going upstairs. Though he is a thief, he has never hurt anyone, so he would not be sent downstairs. Let me get to the point. For some reason, business downstairs has been slow, and my boss wants me to get more traffic going downstairs. Here’s the deal. I will get your husband out of purgatory if you will provide me with a soul that I can send downstairs.”

“Huh? What? Provide you with a soul that you can send downstairs? Now, where would I get a soul, a dead person, to give you to send downstairs?”

“You will find one. I will return your husband to you now, and I will give you one year to replace him with a soul that I can take downstairs. If you do not find a replacement, I will return your husband to purgatory. Remember, it must be someone who has hurt another person. A murderer is acceptable,” he said, waved his hand, Don appeared, and the man disappeared.

“Don, you’re back,” she squealed, ran to him, and they embraced.”

“Karen, how’d you do it?”

“I made a deal with a guy who needs souls to take downstairs. If I can find such a person, a bad person, then you don’t have to go back to purgatory.”

“Well, honey, it’s good to be home. Now, I gotta figure out which place I’m gonna rob.”

“What?” she screamed.  “I didn’t get you out of purgatory to go back to your old ways. I’m not going to be married to a thief. I told you that. What does it take for you to learn? You’re a stupid moron. I’m leaving you,” she yelled, and went into the bedroom to pack a suitcase.

“Honey, please don’t leave me. Just one more job, and I promise I’ll quit.”

“I’m not staying married to a blithering idiot. A moron. The ultimate in stupidity.”

“Karen, y’ gotta stop calling me names. My father used to call me those names over and over and over,” he growled and hit Karen knocking her down. She got to her feet and grabbed a candle stick from the bureau, hit Don as he lunged for her, and he fell to the floor dead.

She fell to his side and held his head. “Don, oh Don, I didn’t mean to…”

The man in black appeared. “Well done. It didn’t take you long to find a murderer whom I can take downstairs.”

“I didn’t find a murderer. I… Oh, my God. I’m a murderer. Please don’t take me. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t take me.”

“A deal’s a deal, Karen, now you are mine,” he said, waved his hand, and both disappeared.

Don went to purgatory and spent a long time there because he was a two-time loser and those who ran purgatory weren’t sure what to do with him.  Karen went directly to purgatory, where she was ushered into the elevator that took her downstairs. She wasn’t happy because downstairs was, well, hell.

The End

BIO: While teaching speech and English at a community college, Mr. Greenblatt wrote short stories and plays, one of which won a reading at Smith College.  After retiring, he wrote short stories and novellas.   Several of his stories were published in on-line magazines, and others were published in print anthologies.

 

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