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Latest Stories

March 19, 2024
Fantasy Stories Wondering Monk

Just My Imagination

The alarm clock went off and started playing an awful tune. Tom opened his eyes and closed them back, squinting. He reopened one eye and stood up to stop the torture. The phone was on the desk, in the furthest spot from the bed. Although he changed his way of…
March 19, 2024
Science Fiction Stories Ocelotlzin

Earth Is Dead

Recording… It doesn't matter who I was; I probably lived a long time ago, and I am now just a voice someone added to the audio-visual records. What is essential is the recollection of events that lead to the current state. So, a little history needs to be…
March 08, 2024
Flash Fiction Benoit

Some Enchanted Evening

It was a rugby tackle with tears: Chrissy burst in, sobbing and babbling, hugging James. Her face was all wet, eyes wild. What…? My parents split up, Dad has moved in with his boyfriend and I cannot join them. I am shut out. I have lost my dad. Torrent of…
March 08, 2024
Horror Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

In The Hands Of My Legs

The car pulled up in front of the large salon. The neon sign, that sexy broad thing, on the salon'sroof read "Mr. Gil's All-night Salon". The exhaust pipe of the car was pumping solid smoke, theswirls moving from the car and towards the salon.…
March 07, 2024
Mystery Stories Vanessa Leigh Giles

Casualty of Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Chapter 1 Until Death do us Part ‘Ring, ring!’. I answered the telephone and asked, “Hello, good evening. Who’s this? “Hello.” This is Dr. Smith from Red Cross hospital. “Is this Mr. Locke, John?”, he asked, hesitantly scratching his bald head. “Yes, doctor.…
March 07, 2024
Crime Stories Robert Pook

Bar Room Trigger

Another return journey on footpaths so familiar. He strides across each crack in each paving stone. Regular loose drain covers sidestepped. Mapping long ago mapped in Richard’s desolate mind. His pace hastened by the sight of the oncoming storm. Quickening…
March 04, 2024
Horror Stories Ano Chinemerem

Sanctity

Where should I begin? I could begin by telling you about this comely boy, whom every notable person around the streets agrees his smile could charm the bills off one. Between one smile, there was his goodness, his dreams and humanity—a little far ahead?— but…
March 04, 2024
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

Et Mortui Partium

As Rafael stepped out into the rain, it wasn't the ordinary drops that fell from the sky. Instead, it was a storm of souls, each one taking the form of shimmering jewelry as it cascaded toward the ground. Rubies, diamonds, and sapphires twinkled amidst the…
February 29, 2024
Poetry Jing Li Ava

London

‘Am I in London?’ "I am." Where is Elizabeth? Happy living story All of your chapter Bounlance joy Please my heart Power hand Wise mind Our baby Vow vow Love all love Miss I miss Endless wonder Bring us together Love all love Miss I miss For everything My…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Rob Pook

Life Sentence of The Smith

Born nine months after his country won the World Cup.A child prodigy.Cast off at age twenty-four.Husband, father, emigree, away on the other side of the world.The blue-collar life.The dreams of success.The search for fulfillment.The long years of empty…
February 29, 2024
Mystery Stories Joshua Lowther

The Operator

Jason looked over to his right, his eyes barely able to focus themselves on the subject of his attention. His neck ached terribly from the strenuous movement. He was tired. The captain’s gaze came to rest on the rookie sonar operator sitting tense at his…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Salvatore Difalco

The Chute

At dusk, we left our unit with a soft pink bundle. I carried it through the wet streets and into the black woods. I said I’d take it all the way, the bundle, but that we had to drop it in together. My wife’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t make me do that.” I…

It was four in the morning, but muggy as only Florida in the summer could be. Jetlagged, I couldn’t toss and turn in my bed any longer. I sat up, staring at the shadowed reflection in the warped mirrors that lined the walls. A single closet light highlighted the harsh edges and cast strange shadows that caught my eyes and sent a frisson up my spine.

I hated this room. Too many memories wrapped in cellophane in the closets, dresses from the 1950’s trading buttons with sport jackets from the 1980’s. My Mema had a hard time letting go.

Under the bathroom’s boudoir lighting, deep purpling bags stared back at me. I shouldn’t have read so late, even with the jetlag. Two quick swipes of mascara gave me eyes again. Something spiny and hairy scuttled over my foot and I jumped, almost poking my eye out. I cursed liberally in two languages and searched the white and black tiles, but whatever it’d been, it was gone and only the tingling sensation lingered. Stupid old house. Mema wouldn’t leave it even as it fell apart around her; it was her last connection to her dead.

I checked for anything else that might scuttle over my foot, palmetto bug, mouse, or my imagination. I turned lights on as I walked and then off once the next room was lit. It made for awkward back and forth progress. The encroaching darkness nipped at my heels, twining like an insolent cat, and I was conscious of every step. At the back of the house mist crept up the lawn from the wide river, obscuring the crabgrass and blanketing the grapefruit trees.

This mansion, a creaky 1970’s monstrosity, overlooked a slanting dock slowly succumbing to Florida mold and moss. Its indoor pool was slimy, the hot tub scummy with bacteria from someone’s nether regions, while the two-story glass enclosure was chipped and cracked from years of benign neglect.

The stairs were dark, lacking lighting, an oversight that made Mema sleep downstairs instead of up in the master suite she’d shared for years with my grandfather. I used my toes to cautiously find the next step hidden in the stair’s maw. Still on European time, I needed some cereal. At the bottom, the door opened into a living room bordered by the pool’s glass prison. Even at this hour, the two eighty-inch screen TVs were lit with static. It added a greenish glow to a room where stuffed animals and upholstered chairs vied for mastery on shag carpet and cracked tile.

I fumbled for the light switch. It was here somewhere. I brushed against something fuzzy and bit back a yelp. Finally, the plastic switch caught my sweeping fingertips and light flooded the room.

Mema sat in her La-Z-boy recliner with her red wig askew and fake teeth grinning. I lurched backward against the doorknob. The breath whooshed out of me. She turned slowly to stare.

“Good morning,” I stuttered. The air was too thick for passage through my larynx to my lungs.

“Good morning.” She seemed completely unperturbed by my sudden entrance from a dark stairwell into a room where she’d apparently been sitting alone in the dark staring at static TVs. But maybe she was used to unexpected visitors. “Can’t sleep?” she asked, still without blinking blood-shot eyes.

“Jet lag,” I said, still breathless. “Trouble sleeping too?”

“I feel closest to your grandfather when I watch the snow channel.” She pointed a lightning bolt finger at the rocking chair with the large teddy bear and American flags that rocked at my elbow.

I stared. “What?”

“Your grandfather,” she repeated, false white teeth winking under harsh florescent lights. “He’s right next to you with his teddy bear.”

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