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Latest Stories

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…
October 17, 2025
Mystery Stories Brittany Szekely

The House On Wren Street

Notes: A mother rebuilding her life after domestic violence uncovers a chilling secret in her new home Isla didn’t notice the house was watching her until the second week. At first, it was just creaks in the floorboards, the way the hallway light flickered…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

Pee Girl Gets The Milk

He met her on a Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday that feels like a leftover Monday, stale and gray and hungover from the weekend’s sins. Her name was Lita, or maybe Rita, or maybe she just said that to keep things simple. She had a cigarette halo, a ring of smoke…
October 17, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Lie To Me More

La vida es una mentira; Miénteme más,Que me hace tu maldad feliz.(Life is a lie; Lie to me more,For your wickedness makes me happy.)Armando Domínguez Borras, “Miénteme” (bolero) Out of a habit ingrained over fifty-odd years of hard work, Timmy McFarlane got up…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Unseen Listener Of Moscow

It was 11:55 p.m. when he stepped out of Moscow’s Lefortovo Metro Station. His whole body ached; his legs trembled. His eyes were sleepy. He felt surrounded by unknown souls, all in a hurry to reach their destinations. He looked at the disappearing faces for a…
October 17, 2025
General Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Rearranging The Brain Furniture

She called herself Lark, though her name was probably something dull like Emily or Claire. She was nineteen, maybe twenty, with a face that looked like it had been drawn in charcoal, smudged eyes, a mouth that never quite closed, and hair that hung like wet…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

FCAWF

She called herself Moth and said she liked the way they flew into flames without flinching. Her real name was Emily, but that was buried under layers of eyeliner, cigarette burns, and a voice that could cut glass. She was thirty, somewhat immature, vindictive…
October 17, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Kashif Imdad

Femtoria

In a dystopian future, the world had transformed into a society that was unrecognisable to those who had lived in the previous century. The nation of Femtoria stood as a beacon of prosperity, A female supremacist regime, had risen to power, enforcing a strict…
September 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

Half an Hour to Fourteen

Last night she lay on her bed with a curly-haired doll close to her chest. She was looking at the clock hanging over the door. Only half an hour was left —her life’s digit would turn from thirteen to fourteen, a change that felt like a heavy blow to the…
September 27, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

Till We Meet Again

“Would you like more coffee?”The server in the orange apron lowered the pot, but Cath muttered, “No, thank you.”Her voice trembled, and the server busied herself with the next table. Outside the window, fog enveloped Waterloo Bridge. The morning was quiet,…
September 23, 2025
Flash Fiction Leroy B. Vaughn

Another Farewell To Arms Reunion

We were sitting in a little café in Wickenburg Arizona eating lunch when my wife looked at me and said, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to this reunion after you told all of your buddies that there was not a chance in hell that you would go.” “I know…
September 23, 2025
General Stories William Kitcher

A Political Solution

The Rt. Honorable Leader/Head of Council/First Governor/Chief Minister/Premier/President/Chancellor/First Minister/Party Secretary-General entered his office, and looked out the open window. It was a beautiful sunny cool day, and the cherry blossoms shone in…

As Tough Johnny Rolls (his words) remembers it:

It was the beginning of summer in 1954 when Vince Domino returned to the East New York. His thirteen year stretch at Sing Sing was over. No parole for Vince, he did the full tilt. He’s no rat, he kept his mouth shut.

What other choice did he have? Maybe like Kid Twist, the rat star witness who agreed to talk and took a ten story “fall” out of a window while being secretly “protected” by the cops at the Half Moon Hotel in Coney Island.

Forgetabout it!

They had Kid Twist, but they didn’t have Vince, they’d never have Vince for any Murder charge, but if they ever did, he still would not squeal. He would happily go to old sparky with honor and dignity. His mantra: “I don’t give nobody up.”

Sure, Vince, a target, avoided getting clipped by Mindy Green in the 1941 bloodletting of rat witnesses; and in spite of all that, he still didn’t squeal. Luckily, his “contract work” could not be collaborated by any testifying rat from the crew or anyone else, so no Murder One charge.  That scum bag District Attorney Burton Turkus finally got Vince on some bullshit conspiracy-weapons rap. He did his time, honorably.

A stand up guy.

The new bosses didn’t give a shit. In the can they made Vince learn to repair shoes, but he was not going to do that on the outside. Vince wanted back in the game. If not contract work, any other racket would do. The new East New York bosses wouldn’t tumble. No work for Vince.

That took him to Coney Island to look up Rochelle Levy.

Back in the day, Vince had used Rochelle as one of the few female “models” for the risqué photography business he ran on the side. He covertly photographed his “models” and others at orgies he ran in a seedy apartment by the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

Vince marketed the photos, in Greenwich Village, through his NYC business contact Rudy The Queer, as forbidden imports from France. Banned in Gay Parrie and now for sale in New York City!

Vince also used the photos to run a small time blackmail scam. Those poor schmucks paid to get into the orgy, and then some kept on paying (for various reasons) to keep the photos secret!

As Vince was in the process of buying a movie camera in 1941 to expand his smut business, the Murder, Inc. shit hit the fan and Burkus locked him up. The newspapers ran with his “sexsational” extracurricular activities, thus the name: Vince Domino: King of Smut.

When he tracked down Rochelle, he discovered that she had married Sid Dubinsky, one of the cops who “fell asleep” when Kid Twist, famously fell out the tenth floor window while being secretly held at the Half Moon Hotel in 1941.

The story Dubinsky and his partner Carlo Russo gave: the Kid was probably going to pull a joke on them by swinging into the window directly below his window and coming back up the stairs to laughingly confront the cops in the hallway outside his securely locked door.

They claimed Kid Twist had a great sense of humor.

Turkus did not share that trait.

Sid and Carlo were shit canned from the NYPD. Carlo moved to Florida and opened up a small business. Sid became a protected Coney Island bookie.

Who said crime does not pay?

Not Sid.

Not Carlo.

Sid Dubinsky met Rochelle Levy when she was singing at a Coney Island after hours club where they fell in love. Sid knew her past, but he didn’t care, she was a ripe, luscious and vivacious strawberry blonde. They were married in 1950 and settled into a cozy bungalow close to the beach.

On a perfectly clear, starry and salty sea breeze Coney Island evening, Vince, Rochelle and Sid met at the colorfully neon lit Atlantis Bar and Grill; you know the joint, located on the boardwalk down the street from Nathan's Famous.

No?

They got a gigantic bar surrounded a stage where costumed western theme singers entertained while people drank ice cold beer and consumed clams on the half shell.

You know the dump. Run by Joe Marino.

The trio traded old stories, but quickly got down to business. They decided to start Vince’s old photo-orgy business.

Anyway....

Ralphie Boy tolerated women, but he was on the down low. The guys back in 1940s’ East New York quietly joked about their suspicions labeling him a “bone smoker.” Then again, Ralphie’s tough as nails “connected” brother Big Nicky didn’t want to hear about it. If he did hear anything, the guy who squawked would be seeing a dentist or checking into a hospital.

Ralphie Boy made a mistake one evening. He got drunk and tagged along with some guys to one of Vince’s orgies.  He stumbled into a bathroom and met Rudy the Queer in the process of taking a dump. Rudy was there buying more photos from Vince to sell in Greenwich Village. One thing led to another, and Vince heard the groaning and shot some excellent photos of Rudy and Ralphie Boy. Rudy didn’t give a shit, about the photos that is.

Big Nicky got caught up in a post Turkus sweep and was executed  for Murder in 1945. Ralphie Boy split to Newark, New Jersey quietly living in exile.  Without Nicky, Ralphie Boy was toast on the street. His Uncle Sally Torso asked the Newark boys to keep an eye on his nephew and provide him with a “living.”

Ralphie Boy never told anyone about the pictures and extortion. Sally just thought Ralphie Boy was a bit stunard; if he knew the truth he would have had Ralphie Boy clipped.

The extortion stopped when Vince was locked up. Most of Vince’s photo work was destroyed by Turkus The Crusader. No one knows why. (politics, right people wrong place).

Ain’t that some shit, the guy that would execute Ralphie Boy’s brother, Turkus, saved Ralphie Boy’s life. Hey, if those photos ever got out, forget about it!

1954: Ralphie Boy was a numbers runner in Newark. His bosses son Rocky, just got out of Sing Sing and asked Ralphie Boy if he knew a guy named Vince Domino.  All Ralphie Boy said was “Yea, from the old neighborhood.”  He was intent on killing Vince, and killing him in a unique and embarrassing (to Vince) way.

Ralphie Boy quickly devised a plan. He “accidentally” ran into Rudy the Queer after searching the seedy and illegal after hours gay bars housed in the truck trailers under the West Side Highway in Greenwich Village. They got drunk and smoked some weed. Ralphie Boy talked Rudy into playing hide the salami at Rudy’s apartment on Bleeker Street.

The next morning, Ralphie Boy forced Rudy at gun point to call Vince and ask him (for old times sake) to a party at his apartment. The false story was Rudy had heard about the new business and wanted to discuss a possible New York University connection that would be quite beneficial. Rudy wanted to “introduce” these college kids to Vince. Vince said he would be there at seven.

Vince showed up and was buzzed in, at gun point, Ralphie Boy got the drop on him while Rudy was tied up in the living room. There was a bottle of downers on the table. Again at gun point, Ralphie Boy made Vince swallow about six pills and restrained him as he got groggy.

When Vince was even more groggy and helpless, he posed Vince while “forcing” Rudy to perform homo shit on Vince. Pictures were taken using a timer so it looked like they both were in on it. Ralphie Boy made an artificial smile of ecstasy on Vince’s face as Rudy was going down on him.

Rudy was finished, he was forced to take the same amount of pills. As he got groggy, Ralphie Boy using Rudy’s portable typewriter typed (using Vince’s finger) a suicide note stating Rudy the Queer and Vince have been lovers before Vince went to jail and now they wanted to end it all because no one would accept their mutual love. In addition, they had both been unfaithful while Vince was in the can. They left the photos as proof of their love.

Ralphie Boy then shot Rudy in the head with his throw away  untraceable twenty-two using a silencer, of course. He used Vince’s hand (again) and shot Vince the same way. A murder/suicide.

The cops in the Sixth Pct. were used to homo murder/suicides just as well as the “unknown foreign object stuck in anus, unable to expel” calls from St. Vincent’s Hospital.  This one story made the papers because of Vince Domino’s prior fame.  Headline: Vince Domino “King of Smut” Dead in Village Murder Suicide.”

And, that, my friend, is that.

 

Epilogue

 

***Sid and Rochelle decided not to enter Vince’s business.

 

***Rudy the Queer’s Aunt from Washington Heights adopted his two cats, Sodom and Gomorrah.

 

***Sally Torso was assassinated while eating at his favorite Coney Island Italian restaurant.

 

***Ralphie Boy took over Rudy’s apartment, became a weed dealer in Washington Square Park, and came out of the closet.

 

 

 

Frankie Rembly is a retired New York City Police Officer.

He admits the imaginative characters he has developed are far more interesting and less dangerous than the street people he has dealt with.

Now.....

He feels like a 45 RPM record, in a digitalized music world.

 

 

 

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