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Latest Stories

January 10, 2026
Fantasy Stories Garry Harman

Alien Speaker

The Speaker loitered outside the Speaking Nest, floating effortlessly in the thick atmosphere. Small webbings keeping him stable, eyes constantly goggling for food or danger. He took a glance to inspect his armor. In good condition, gleaming and delightful to…
January 10, 2026
General Stories Tom Kropp

Greg’s Grievous Grudge

The man who used the fake identity of JB Strand sat in his little hotel room alone, smoking crack and drinking. His early years haunted him. His mom had been a junkie prostitute that left a map work of scars across his back from cigarette cherries and…
January 10, 2026
Fantasy Stories Garry Harman

Grey Leader

“Blue Leader to Grey Leader. You there, Pappy?” “Roger, Blue Leader. Can’t you see me?” It was getting dark. Grey Leader was happy to be difficult to spot. Being seen could be fatal. Blue Leader and his flight were cruising in close formation, but not too…
January 10, 2026
Flash Fiction Tom Kropp

School Shooter Stopped

"Scot! You have to get to the tech school now! There's a shooter waiting outside right now! He's waiting for the period to end and ambush students! He's got an Uzi machine pistol and another pistol!" Sharon informed Scot. "Name and location?" Scot inquired…
January 10, 2026
General Stories Michael Barlett

Klondike

1897 CHAPTER ONE The brakes on the Sierra steam locomotive screeched as the train pulled into the Townsend Street Depot in San Francisco. When it lurched to a stop, a man carrying a black leather valise grabbed hold of a stanchion to steady himself.…
January 10, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

Year End Reckoning

The doors of the temple of Janus Quirinus …the Senate decreed should be closed on three occasions while I was princeps. Augustus, Res Gestae, Chapter 13 I always find the days between Christmas and New Year to be the most trying span of time in the entire…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Cody Wilkerson

Faith Valentine

With the day just getting started I’m excited for work. Today we receive our weekly mission at my job. I have been groomed into the family business, the perfect child, growing up excelling at everything. But a rebel at heart. When it comes to the job, no one…
January 05, 2026
Fantasy Stories M. R. Blackmoor

Mermaids And Sirens

...when a storm was coming on, and they anticipated that a ship might sink, they swam before it,and sang most sweetly of the delight to be found beneath the water, begging the seafarers not tobe afraid of coming down below.Hans Christian Anderson, The Little…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Invisible Vampires

Tennessee wheats decided to check out the massive car accident pile up on the main strip. She thought that this kind of stuff has been going on for the past year, constantly. Nothing could explain what happened. This woman did an efficient job at tracking the…
January 05, 2026
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The Contemplative Flower Of Violet

The mellow flower of violet is a fineness of the violet's blossom in the moonlight however the small eternity happens in an enchanting woodland solitude genus Viola is minor but wonderful and subtle so tranquil the last night was when a sylvan dream was…
January 05, 2026
Flash Fiction Nelly Shulman

The King of Paris

Louis valued the dry autumn leaves. The dirty coat, the stained blanket, and the old newspapers kept the heat, but the bed of leaves was the best. It wasn’t so cold anyway for the middle of October. Smoking a cigarette butt from his stash, Louis wondered…
January 05, 2026
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

A Killer’s Confession

Ralph Bozeman was a very big man that stood six foot five and weighed just under three hundred pounds of fat and some muscle. He was a pale, average looking white man with dark eyes and brown hair that he kept clipped short. He owned his own business as an…

Wimbledon has begun and our house is full of excitement. The tennis season always evokes tremendous enthusiasm from the LOH(Lady of the House). She even sacrifices her "Bold and Beautiful" TV time to "Prime Sports" and literally leaves Brooke holding her baby. Not that she is a great tennis lover, but she is an ardent fan of Ms Maria Sharapova. She watches every match that Ms Sharapova plays and her prayers for Ms Sharapova's victory become loud and clear.

I have only to applaud or comment "Well played" on a point scored by Ms Sharapova's opponent and she threatens me with a boycott which I can ill afford. Her comments while watching Ms Sharapova at play are so knowledgeable.

"Just watch! She is going to win today. She is wearing black bangles on her wrist," she exclaims in glee. Ms Sharapova's defeats are attributed to not wearing black bangles or some other trinket that the great tennis star is fond of wearing.

The other day she was absolutely ecstatic with Maria's performance.

"You know I am going to name my granddaughter Maria," she enthused.

"Don't you think that is going a bit too far?" I queried.

"Why what is wrong with it?" she countered. "We have to name her something and Maria is my favourite person."

"But what happens if she doesn't play tennis when she grows up?" I asked.

"She will play tennis," she said with finality typical of her. "And she will become a world champion too."

"And how are you going to ensure that?" I egged her on. Now she was in full flight. Her runaway fancy got the better of her.

"Catch them young! That's what I will do," she went on. "I shall give her a silver tennis racket in place of a rattle when she is born. She will develop a good firm grip right from day one," she added.

"And what about the black bangles?" I said tongue in cheek.

"Yes," she said, "She will get those too. I shall arrange to have her coached from childhood. I shall show her all the video cassettes of all Maria's matches that I am recording. I will make her a world champion. And when she does win the Wimbeldon..."

"She will tell the world 'I owe my success to my grandma. There are people who are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, but I was born with a silver racket in my hand.'" I interrupted her.

"Yes." The faraway look in her eyes and the smile of intense satisfaction on her face told me she was already dreaming of the moment.

"Come on, Darling. She has got to be the first Indian woman to sail round the world single handed," I said. The sailor in me got the better of me even though discretion dictated otherwise.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snubbed me. "When was the last time you won a race. You and your sailing! It's always some protest or the other, or a gear failure or whatever."

She did have a point there.

"But what can I do? You only pray for Ms Sharapova's win and not mine," I countered.

"I only pray for winners," she said.

"But they don't need your prayers."

Just then our son walked in. We were just warming up and the domestic battle was enjoined. He had gathered soon enough what it was all about.

"Mom and Dad, what makes you think that your granddaughter will become a sports person at all? Don't I have a say in the matter?" he asked.

"And pray what has this got to do with you?" said the LOH.

"She'll be my daughter."

"No she will be my granddaughter and she will play tennis. And that’s that," the LOH responded.

"But Mom..."

"I'll have no buts from you young man. And another squeak from you and ...."

"So Mom, you agree to my marrying ...."

"Over my dead body," she said.

"But..."

"Don't you think this is all a trifle premature?" I put in a word edgewise. That is all that I can manage on such mother-son confrontations. He is only eighteen and our dream granddaughter has many years yet before she arrives. But while we wait here is more strength to Ms Sharapova and I hope our granddaughter is not beaten to being the first Indian Woman to sail solo round the world.

 

End

 

Bio:   I have served for over 33 years in the Indian Army Corps of Engineers and am retired now. Love writing humour and short stories. I have also written books on Military History and Management. Some of my short stories were published when I was much younger. Professional commitments pushed my fiction writing to a stand still. I have the time and the inclination now and wish to share my wit with others.

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