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Latest Stories

November 03, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

The Light That Wasn't God

They found the truck three days after the storm, engine still warm, doors flung open with obvious brutal force. No sign of blood. No sign of struggle. Just a half-eaten sandwich on the dash and a smear of something black and iridescent on the steering wheel.…
November 03, 2025
Romance Stories Jennifer Moffatt

Don’t Sit, You’ll Miss It

I paid for my seat. I want to sit in it without missing anything. So, when the band kicks the show off with their second-biggest hit, and the woman in front of me with black hair in a silver sequined dress leaps to her feet, I groan. Jodi, my cousin, shares a…
November 03, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

A Daughter Of Man

The city had no name anymore. It used to. Jack remembered it vaguely—billboards, neon, the hum of trains overhead. Now it was just a carcass of steel and ash, its bones jutting skyward like the ribs of some long-dead beast. Fires burned in the distance,…
November 03, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

Frozen Mornings

It was a cold winter, and the wind felt like sharp needles touching the skin. Trees were rustling, standing bare. The fog covered the streets. Schools were shut for winter break, and most kids spent their days sitting by the windows wrapped in quilts near the…
October 31, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Nelly Shulman

Fly Me To The Moon

The evening lunar shuttle departed on time. When the engines roared and the rocket left the steel trusses, I took a deep breath. Public transportation to the Moon had stopped being a novelty, but I still admired the pilots’ skill. “You may unfasten your seat…
October 31, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Sonnet X

they say it`s all the boomers and X`s fault- into the wound they rub the salt. we planted a seed and watched it bloom- never expected any handouts upon a golden spoon. we had to save real hard- just to buy our very first car. every day was lived hand to…
October 31, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Posters

I told Irene: "I had to shut the door to the passage. They have taken over the back part. She let her knitting fall and looked at me with her tired, serious eyes. "You're sure?" I nodded. "In that case,” she said, picking up her knitting again, "we'll have…
October 31, 2025
Romance Stories Brittany Szekely

Snap Me When You’re Home

A chance Snapchat add leads to a slow-burn love story between two strangers who become lifelong partners It started with a misclick, a blurry photo of a coffee cup that was meant for her sister that was sent to a stranger named “Jax_93.” Luna stared at the…
October 31, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Fate Of Her Pencil

Last year, she entered her husband’s home with hopes and quiet dreams. Dreams which every village girl sees about her secure future. Village life was harsh and unforgiving. Instead of laughter, her days echoed with commands. The smallest mistake brought…
October 31, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Haunted Cemetery

summoned from the underworlds brimstones and fires; nightmare beast howl to midnights lustres light- fangs drip with a lust to bite. summoned from the underworlds brimstones and fires; an unholy choir echo a demons song- from inside deaths memorial, shadows…
October 31, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Brittany Szekely

The Last Library On Europa

A lonely archivist on Jupiter’s moon discovers a forbidden book that rewrites reality The library was buried beneath Europa’s ice crust, its entrance marked only by a flickering beacon and a rusted hatch. No one came anymore. Not since the collapse of the…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

The Moon Is A Wanderer Too

The rain came down like broken glass and the city was a wound, bleeding light and exhaust and the smell of food frying in oil that’s been used too many times. I was walking nowhere, which is the only place I ever go, and the streets were full of saints and…

They lived together in a rustic looking A-Frame house down the road off the lake. There were three of them, Nancy, Cathy and Mike, all in their early sixties. They were very pleasant, even though townsfolk could tell they were from New York City; all three pretty much kept to themselves and seemed very happy and content with each other living the semi-rural lifestyle here in New England.

Nancy was a trim and fit blonde who looked dynamite in stylish but simple standard corduroy pants and sweater combinations under her tailored navy jacket. The cold, biting New England wind made her complexion even lovelier, complementing her nearly perfect smile.

Nancy loved to shop in the local markets; one could tell she was quite the gourmet cook. She could also be seen painting landscapes during our beautifully colorful autumn seasons. In addition, Nancy sang American Standards at our local coffee house. Her lovely voice blending her ageless sexuality and those timeless lyrical standards of the greatest generation made for quite enjoyable entertainment.

Cathy had an infectious laugh and a great smile. She was petite and slender, with ear length dark hair that was always set in a early 1960’s style out of Mad Men. Cathy looked like her denim jeans were painted on her perfect legs, her tops nicely fit and without a bra her tiny breasts still kept their upward perk.

Cathy also loved to cook and shop along with Nancy.  She loved to clean. The A Frame was always tidy and spotless. Nancy and Cathy were best friends for over forty years. Their friendship was eternal and transcended the physicality of their love. The two drew Mike into their physically and emotionally satisfying world back in New York City.

Cathy was the long distance runner of the three, loving those seemingly endless beautiful trails through tree packed forests along steep mountain terrain. Alternating between the complete silence of nature and classic rock music on her i phone during these runs, Cathy lived for the runner’s high.

Cathy loved to laugh and though not college educated like  Mike and Nancy, she was as sharp as they come. But at times, for affect, Cathy liked to scheme a good practical joke on her two lovers.

Mike was a six foot, blue eyed, retired New York City Police Officer with unkept salt and pepper hair. One could tell he kind of missed the hustle and bustle of being a cop in New York City, but was intrinsically drawn to our peaceful parcel of earth. He always had a smile and a wave for everyone in town.

Mike was not your average police officer. He had a prior career in education but went on to law enforcement instead of getting a Phd. in order to receive tenure in academia. But being a cop was what he was really meant to be. Mike’s sense of humor drove their friendship. He was funny and a true original.

He met Nancy when she ran a deli down on Broadway right off Houston Street in Greenwich Village. They became instant lovers and fast friends.  Nancy introduced Mike to her best friend Cathy and the three became an item. It took a while for Nancy and Cathy to find out what really made Mike tick, but they eventually did, and loved him even more.

Mike dabbled in writing and photography and loved to take long walks in the woods. He truly loves Nancy and Cathy and has finally obtained the contentment and peace that had evaded him since he returned from Viet Nam in 1969. He believes Nancy and Cathy’s place in his life is the answer to years of unidentifiable but gnawing uncertainty.

To Mike, Nancy and Cathy gave him creativity, independence, spontaneity, and most importantly, true love. Hence, he is able to unquestionably appreciate and enjoy existence.

Nancy and Cathy love taking care of Mike, and Mike loves being taken care of by Nancy and Cathy. In his own way, he fulfills and completes the ladies sense of being uniquely connected to the universe.

Mike calls their trio:  The Three H’s: Hazy Hot, and Humid.

They are three of the most contented people I have ever met.

 

Epilogue

 

Why Hazy, Hot and Humid?  Mike answered that with one of his “numerous humorous” observations:

Cathy is Hazy, with her feigned misunderstanding of events and Gracie Allen logic.

Nancy is Hot, for her unadulterated sexuality.

And......

Mike is Humid, for his unkept hair, having bad hair days even in the cold of New England.

 

End

 

Frankie Rembly  is new to writing and enjoys the renaissance of creativity in writing for television's new golden age.

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