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Latest Stories

March 13, 2025
General Stories Vishesh Panthi

The Powerful Adversary

A very wise master named Shamon lives in Japan. He is well-known for his intelligence and discipline. Shamon teaches kendo and jujutsu, traditional Japanese martial arts, in a small town in Japan. All those who wish to learn kung fu, kendo, or any other art…
March 13, 2025
Romance Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Tomorrow Is A Long Time

Lately, I just don't know. It's a beautiful feeling to be of use to a woman again and when I tell her, " Woman, please… Just let me do many things, " it makes her laugh. It's good to hear and her smile is amazing, too. Why do broken people see a way out…
March 13, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

Autumn In The Heart

If you have autumn in your heart, blessed soul,the morning star foretells rain of memories here.Highlights and shadows – an ontological being.I’m curious about your paths, your ethical emotions.If the heart breaks the ice of memory,the heart becomes full of…
March 13, 2025
General Stories Devin D. Householder

Hinge Hookups In A Zombie Apocalypse

A 24-year old hairdresser and a 37-year old divorced English teacher scroll their phones in search of love…whatever that is these days. Kat eyed Jim while she poured his gifted Pinot into her tiny apartment’s only two wine glasses. His profile picture didn’t…
March 13, 2025
Horror Stories Robert Hugh

It's Not What You Think

The two uniformed cops stood by their motorcycles. The alleyway was blocked off while the forensics team did their job. “Do you know what happened?” “A detective told me it’s the killer they’ve been looking for.” “Who’s the other guy?” “No idea.” Nearby a…
March 13, 2025
General Stories Alejandro Casas

Hekate

In the early hours of the morning on the first Monday of the first week of the year 2020, Damian woke up panic-stricken at the sound of air horns blaring through his city. Awakening from the stupor of deep-seated rest, he recounted and pondered the…
March 13, 2025
Flash Fiction Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

Brotherhood Of The Blue Traveling Pants

Stop! Easy. Quiet. Listen. Don't rush. I want to tell you a story that needs you to close your eyes. It's the whole vibe. Trust me. I guess theories are oftentimes over-hyped. And this story could seem like a mathematical asymptote. But effort, sure as hell,…
March 13, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The longing The Pindaric Ode

You – such a dreamery born from Dionysian odes like tender day in Your winds – enchanted butterflies as the Golden Fleece – bewitched in my meek fantasy august paradise lost is thus found and so dreamy You lotus-like butterfly you – above volcanos with…
January 28, 2025
General Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

Old Addictions In New Bottles – A Modern Retelling Of Rip Van Winkle

Mental gymnastics is no fun fair, and Rip Van Winkle had lost his mind. Certainly, It would help here to elucidate on the events that led to his losing his mind. Rip Van Winkle, after some wild tantrums from his wife, had left his home into the rocky fields…
January 28, 2025
Horror Stories Cecilia Kennedy

Photo Album For A Ghost

Wild owls hit my window at night. I have a floodlight on, outside, because someone has followed me home, and between the owls and the nightly invasions, I can’t sleep. A door, slamming shut in my dream, wakes me up because it’s real. I steady myself, breathe…
January 28, 2025
Crime Stories Jason Smith

Cinnamon Pine Cones

“I guess they found him.” Liam thought. He'd been expecting it ever since Ben had died. The city’s finest had turned out in force, the flickering lights lit up his living room. He'd seen the first police car arrive. The police officer had repeatedly knocked…
January 28, 2025
Horror Stories Alejandro Casas

Death

It had long weighed on the child’s consciousness that the illness and malaise of his early years had transformed his parents’ faces. His close brushes with death, both physical and metaphysical, had often reinvigorated his desire to live. Yet constraint,…

“I am afraid the Governor won’t be able to see you today,” the receptionist said politely.

“This is unacceptable,” the man said. “Promises were made. I helped the governor get elected, you know. He is a friend of mine,” the man said, positive the one time he actually met the governor made them friends.

“As I recall, you were given a state job.”

“It’s in a warehouse,” said the man indignantly. “A job in a warehouse is not what I expected when I helped get him elected. I insist on seeing the governor.”

“As I said before,” the receptionist said, straining to maintain her Texas politeness, “that’s not possible. He’s not even in the capitol. Actually, he’s in your neck of the woods today.” She handed him a newspaper which explained the governor’s absence.

“This is not over,” he said. “Not by a long shot.” On the drive from Austin back to Dallas, his mind was in turmoil, planning his next step. It is about a three hour drive from Austin to Dallas, and before he got to Waco he made up his mind to take some drastic action. He stopped and made a telephone call. “They can’t do me this way,” he said out loud, though no one else could hear him. “I’ll take care of this the Texas way.”

When he got to downtown Dallas, some of the streets were blocked off, but he found a parking place near Dealey Plaza. He went into the building where he worked. As he was walking up the stairs, he ran into his co-worker coming down. “I got that thing you wanted,” he said. “It’s on the sixth floor in your hiding spot.”

“Thanks, Lee,” the man said.

He continued up the stairs to the sixth floor to a spot near a window hidden by stacks of boxed textbooks. He often came up here to hide from his supervisors. He found the item Lee had brought for him. He recognized it as a bolt action Carcano with a scope. For Christ’s Sake, why would anyone buy an Italian sniper rifle. This is Texas. You could get a better weapon at any hardware or sporting goods store. That Lee is such a dumb ass. He put on a pair of white cotton gloves and waited.

He heard the crowd react before he saw the cars turn off of Houston Street onto Elm Street. There was a big Lincoln Continental convertible with the top down. He quickly got the governor lined up in the scope. He fired and was pretty sure he hit the governor, but the other man in the car was in the way. He fired off two more rounds as fast as he could with the awkward Italian bolt action. He could see the governor slumped over in the lap of one of the women in the car. The other woman in the car, the one dressed in pink, climbed out on the back of the car. One of the bodyguards jumped on the car and brought her back to the seats. Then Lincoln took off quickly. He laid the rifle down carefully, and headed for the stairs.

“What happened? What’s going on?” It was Lee again.

“There’s been a shooting,” the man said. “You better get out of here.”

“Why? I ain’t done nothing.”

“Y’all better get on away from here. Something big is going on out there and the cops will be looking to arrest some Commies.”

“I ain’t a communist,” Lee said.

“Hell, you’ve been to Russia and you married a Russian girl. Here in Texas that pretty much makes you a communist.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lee said. “Maybe I’ll just go on home till everything calms down.”

“Good idea,” the man said. “Here, take this in case there’s any trouble.” The man handed Lee a pistol.

“What’s this for?” Lee asked.

“Just in case,” the man said. “Now go on, get out of here.” He watched Lee leave the building. “What a twit,” he said to no one.

The man waited for a few minutes then walked out of the Book Depository Building. Houston and Elm Streets were empty of cars. There were policemen and civilians milling about, some pointing up and the various buildings, most just looking lost and confused. He walked to his car and drove to the Carousel Club, a place where he had spent many a pleasant evening. Now, however, there were no strippers on the stage. They were huddled around a radio with some customers, the bartender and Jack, the owner.

A few drinks later and the man was still at the bar. The radio was still on, giving updates on the situation. He tried to pay for his drinks, but Jack, the owner, said that they were in the house, this time. “Jack,” the man said, “I think I know who did this.”

“Really?” Jack answered, “Who was it?”

The man told Jack a long story about his co-worker, Lee: his politics, his travels to Russia and Cuba, his Russian wife. Jack listened attentively, asking an occasional question. When the man finished his story, Jack said he had to go do something, and told one of the girls to take care of “his friend,” meaning the man.

She poured him another Bourbon and asked, “Are you all right, honey,” in an East Texas accent sweeter than actual honey.

“Yes,” he said, trying to sound brave. “It’s just that I am kinda close to the Governor. He’s a friend of mine. I helped him get elected, you know?”

“Really,” she drawled. “This might not be the right time, but do you think you could help my little brother to get a job with the state?”

The man paused, then said, “You know, there may be a position opening up at the Book Depository.”

“Really?” she said, “You could do that?”

“Sure,” the man said, “that’s the Texas way.”

END

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