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Latest Stories

November 05, 2026
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Day I Climbed Mount Washington

Troubles forereckoned are doubly suffered. Christian Nestell Bovee In the mid-1970s, while I was attending law school in Manhattan, one of my most pleasurable diversions was to drive to Vermont the last weekend of September. There I would meet my close…
November 04, 2026
Horror Stories Alejandro Casas

Loss and Grief

Johann Sebastian Bach’s Partita No. 2 for Solo Violin, Chaconne in D Minor (BWV 1004), plays faintly in the background. During the summer of 2008, Lauren had lived through an intense period of loss that would mark her for the rest of her life. She often…
November 04, 2026
Crime Stories Michael Barlett

Deadly Reckoning

CHAPTER ONE It was a warm sultry night in August and the sun was just setting over the horizon. I was floating in a small rubber dinghy just off a remote wooded shoreline. I reached into my bait bucket and scooped up a live frog. Its eyes bulged as it…
November 04, 2026
Fantasy Stories Alejandro Casas

Paradox or Coincidentia Oppositorum

"Viver é muito perigoso... Querer o bem com demais força, de incerto jeito, pode já estar sendo se querendo o mal, por principiar." “Living is very dangerous…Wanting good too intensely, in an uncertain way, might already mean wanting evil, from the very…
November 04, 2026
General Stories Alejandro Casas

Malady

“Thoughts without content are empty; intuitions without concepts are blind” -Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason “In fact, our willing is the only opportunity we have of understanding simultaneously from within any event that outwardly manifests itself;…
November 04, 2026
Poetry Alejandro Casas

Wayfarers

Dedicated to Samuel Taylor Coleridge I am in no doubt that the creative story of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s composition of Kubla Khan had some general influence on my subconscious, for I was aware of this story, having encountered it in my early teens, and yet…
November 04, 2026
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

First White Hairs

Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back. Marcus Aurelius Edith caught her husband in the bathroom, tweezers in hand, struggling with something. Noting the concern showing in his wrinkled brow, she questioned: “What are you poking at, honey?”…
September 18, 2026
Science Fiction Stories Lilyan Ruiz

Cosmic Crash (Part Two)

Almost thirty years earlier… Nathaniel Cole was married to Catherine Cole. Together, they had two children: their oldest child, Tobias, and their daughter, Lola. Nathaniel and Catherine’s marriage seemed like something out of a Disney fairy tale—a prince…
September 16, 2026
Crime Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Making Amends

The beginning of atonement is the sense of its necessity. Lord Byron If only I had …. Maybe I should …. What can I do? … Theo’s thoughts drifted aimlessly, like a lotus floating on a pond, switching from regrets about past errors to misgivings about his…
September 16, 2026
General Stories Lilyan Ruiz

An Apology To My Dad

I never thought I would write these words. For years, I carried things inside of me that I didn’t know how to explain. Hurt has a way of growing when it is buried. It can turn into anger, resentment, and eventually words that come out much harsher than we…
September 05, 2026
Horror Stories Vidal Martinez

Bittersweet Revenge

I walk into the pub and there she is, in the far corner, sitting at a table with her friends.She sees me, smiles, and gives me that look. I know exactly what’s going to happen. She standsup, moving through the crowd. She approaches. Before I say anything, I…
September 05, 2026
Romance Stories Thomas Turner

Not Just Any Man Of Twim's

A woman is running a ranch house in Upstate New York. Her name is Sharon “Twim” Morris. All workers are male. Her ranch house has all payroll and employee profiles. Sharon decides to take a break and go outside. She is going into town and will take one of…

She yelled so awfully loud... like she was right in my face, you know?

My friend Ryan and I were about twelve and we had been to see Batman at the cinema. Jack Nicholson was awesome as the Joker and as we walked home we kept trying to laugh like that, swapping lines from the movie.

It was late and my stepfather was supposed to pick us up, but he never arrived, more than likely too drunk to drive. We waited around for him, but when the town clock tolled at midnight it was obvious he wasn't coming. Ryan offered to call his parents, but being so young, and out so late, it seemed more adventurous to walk home.

The main street was well lit, so we agreed to stick to it. Ryan's concern was walking past the park. Street lights were few and far between from there and most people stayed clear of the park at night, especially since the MacKenzie baby drowned in the pond, and they said the child could be heard crying sometimes. I told the kids at school I'd heard it myself.

We crossed the street to avoid the park. I stopped to tie my shoelace.

A slight breeze whipped through the tree tops, branches creaked, and one of the park lights began flickering.

Ryan said, “ Hey, Joey... Notice there's no traffic? “

I did notice and it was really quiet, too, but then again it was after midnight.

He said, “ If I hear a kid cryin' in that park, I swear I'll shit my pants. “

“ Can you hear that? “ I asked.

“ Hear what? “

“ Your imagination playin' tricks on you. “

“ But you said you heard that kid's ghost. “

“ Yeah, I did, but I didn't see anythin', and no-one believed me anyway, except you. “

We kept walking and made it to the corner. My house was half a block away, but Ryan still had two blocks to go, past the high school.

He looked back at the park and gasped. I saw it, too. More lights were flickering.

“ I don't want to walk home alone, “ he said. “ I'll give you five bucks to walk with me. “

“ Yeah, okay, “ I said, “ but I'm not holdin' your hand. “

At the high school, Ryan looked back at the park again. He looked frightened now. Every light in the park was off and it was pitch black.

“ It's nothin', “ I told him. “ Happens all the time. I see it from my bedroom window. The council needs to clean that place up. It's a dump. “

“ A dump where babies drown and their ghosts cry in the night. “

We kept walking and turned the corner. Ryan was relieved to be so close to home. He gave me the five bucks. Easy money.

Not far from his house was a little white chipped paint cottage, with a wire fence and rusty gate, and no curtains in the windows. All the lights were off and as we walked past an old lady started yelling, “ I see you there! Don't you knock and run! Don't you dare!  “

“ That's freaky, “ I said. “ She sounds really angry. Old people should be asleep at this hour. Lets go have a look. “

I started towards the gate, only joking, and Ryan grabbed my arm, saying, “ Don't, man. That's too much. She might call the cops. “

“ Don't you knock and run! “ she yelled.

“ She really hates kids, “ Ryan said. “ I've heard her before, but never seen her. “

His mother and father were still up when we arrived. They were disappointed that we had to walk. We should have called them. They offered to let me stay, but I declined, and just wanted to go home.

“ See you tomorrow, “ Ryan said, closing the door.

As I walked home, I had to pass the cottage again, and sure enough, she was still yelling, but then she stopped, as I stood at the gate.

I heard her say, “ I'm cold and can't get up. “

Now I was worried. What if she was injured? She might die and I could have helped.

I opened the gate and left it open, approaching the house. She sounded like she was crying now. At the front door, I knocked lightly, saying, “ Hello? Do you need me to get you an ambulance? “

“ I'm so very cold, “ she said.

“ I can get you help. “

I went to the window and peered inside. As my eyes adjusted, I became aware of something, and every bone in my body wanted to run.

“ I see you there! “ she yelled, but I couldn't see her. “ Don't you knock and run! “

The window boomed and cracked. I fell backward, gathered my feet, and didn't stop running until I got home.

My mother was in the kitchen as I came through the back door.

She said, “ You're as white as a sheet. How was the movie? “

I ignored her and went directly to my room and sat on my bed, grabbing my knees to stop them from shaking.

 

That house was empty.

BIO: I live in Orange, NSW, Australia. I have one child -a daughter. I was born in 1977. My poetry has appeared in anthologies worlwide and my short stories have been featured in men's magazines. I cite James Herbert, Tales from the Crypt, vintage Penny Dreadfuls, and Ripley's Belueve It, or Not, as an influence.

 

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