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Latest Stories

December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Messiah In The Congo

Booming thunder and pouring rain rocked the L.A. night like a hurricane. White lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the dark clouds rolling by. Below the rolling heavens soared long, flowing streams of light that were hovercars in flight,…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murderers Meet Mongrel

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Foxy's Doorbell Destruction

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The 11 Dazzling Verses

The dreameries need Blue Hours. The Blue Hours would need a sun's afterglow. The red sky in the evening longs for a delight. The delight wants a homeland. The native land wanted a literature. The writings are willing to manifest a reality. The epiphany was…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Manslaughter

Felipe was born poor in a shack in Honduras. His family all lived in the same room with a dirt floor and considered themselves lucky to have electricity. But they didn't have indoor plumbing. They had to use an outhouse. They used a communal pump for safe…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Annoyingly Loud Monkey

I decline all noisy, wordy, confused, and personal controversies. Josiah Warren Johnny was an aging Venezuelan red howler (Alouatta seniculus), a fat, medium-sized, male monkey that inhabited the northern edge of the rainforests of tropical South America. His…
December 22, 2025
Flash Fiction A.H. Leclerc

The Lady Of Avalon

This is the story of the Lady of Avalon, first wielder of Excalibur, spiritual precursor of Arthur Pendragon. She had had a lover once. Pwill was his name. A kind soul at one with Nature, who spoke to his horse like they were dearest friends (which they were)…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Thomas Turner

Chicago Bound

Chicago bound: He and his wife are taking a train to Chicago, to be at a concert. It is thrilling for both of them. Charles tells his wife “This is going to be great.” Lana, his wife, who is the singer for the Chicago concert, said “You know, I am going to…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Santa's Dilemma

the jolly old man Santa claus- broke the north poles workers by laws- the elf's toiled all night and day- for a daily pittance called their pay. reported by his brother-in-law- was this the end of old Mr clause- with the elf's downing their tools to go on…
December 22, 2025
Flash Fiction Kashif Imdad

Emma's Fury

Following the catastrophic world war that left humanity on the brink of extinction, Survivors rebuilt establishing communities amidst the devastated terrain. Roaming gangs of men, referred to as the slavers, dominated the wastelands, abducting people and…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Blood Counts

She stepped in front of me blocking my path. I could see that the red-haired, hot hooker was bad news. Obeying instinct, I tried sidestepping her. “Hold on Kole. We need to talk. Look in my eyes!” she demanded. A primal part of me assumed she probably had a…
December 15, 2025
Flash Fiction Michelle Pauls

To RFK, Jr: The Autistic Poet Writes About Pennies

In her bedroom, the young woman walks back and forth, consistently, intently, while eyeing a large ceramic container of pennies nearby. Its purple outer shell is slightly cracked, revealing some unknown material underneath. It is in the center of the room and…

It seemed like an awful shame.  A cheap, broken locket was all that was left.  All that represented the deep and true affection between two people.  Now they were both gone and all Katrina had to show of her parent’s love was part of a locket her father had given to her mother almost thirty years ago.  She studied the tarnished heart-shaped frame that held her father’s picture.  Was this what love was all about? - A simple trinket that cost less than a dollar?  She pushed her glasses back onto her nose and swung the locket in front of her eyes with a hypnotic tempo. She had just finished packing up their room.  The clothes would be donated to the charity store, and the other items would go into storage until she could find the time to decide what to do with it all.  It wasn’t as though there was anyone else that would care where it went.  Katrina was the only child of Richard and Grace Demille- and now she was alone.

Her parents were both in their late thirties when they had finally found each other- they always said it was a love that was worth the wait.  Richard and Grace claimed it was destiny that they found each other.  Katrina wished she could believe in all that, but she knew it would take much more than destiny for her to find true love.  At thirty-five she knew the odds of finding love were worse than being struck by lightening.  At times, she would have opted for either just for some excitement.

She placed the locket in the tiny velvet box, and sighed, as she stood alone in the room.  For the last two years Katrina had cared for her mother while working toward her doctorate in English literature.  It was Pancreatic Cancer that took Grace, and Richard went just a month later.  The doctors didn’t know what it was that killed him, but Katrina did- it was a broken heart that took her father.  He never did recover from losing Grace and one night he went to be with her.  That was the reason Katrina had no tears.  She knew they were together again.

She picked up a box Grace had given her just weeks before she died.  “I want you to be happy,” she had said, handing it to her.  “The key inside this box will open up a New World for you-if you let it.”  This intrigued Katrina, but it wasn’t until Richard passed away that she searched for the box and went through the items inside.  It was there that she discovered the velvet box and the locket, and next to it was the key to a safe deposit box.  What could be hidden inside?  She wondered.  She had seen her parent’s will, and it was nothing that would alter her life.  She took the key and turned it over in her hand.  The letters inscribed were 1023.  Tomorrow she would go to the bank and unlock what Grace believed would change her life.

It was a snowy, March morning and Katrina almost decided a trip out in the cold wasn’t worth it.  However, her curiosity got the best of her, so she grabbed her books and decided to combine the trip to the bank with one to the library.  She walked up the granite steps and tripped on the mat as she swung open the heavy glass doors of the bank.  Inside, she found the vault and after spending several minutes wondering how to go about getting to the box, she finally drummed up the courage to ask a teller for help.

The teller led her inside the vault then left her alone with the key.  She located number 1023 and pulled out the small box.  Inside she found an envelope with a letter in her mother’s handwriting.

Dear Katrina,

For years you gave up your life to take care of me, now I want to take care of you.  I have given the key to another safe deposit box to Mr. Kane- it is number 1024.  You must find him to get the key.  Inside you will find our will, the deed to our house, and the life insurance policy.  You will also find the other half of the locket you now have and hopefully the other half of what you need to be happy.  I love you.

Love, Mom

Katrina read the letter again, and then looked over to box 1024.  Why was her mother doing this to her?  She peered up at the tellers as they busily punched numbers into their computers.  With the letter still clutched in her hand, she pushed her red mass of curls from her eyes and reluctantly walked to them.  “Is there a Mr. Kane who works here,” she asked meekly.

The teller looked at her oddly but smiled.  “Yes, he’s in our upstairs office.  Would you like me to call him for you?”

Katrina shrugged, hating the thought of inconveniencing anyone.

“Your name?” The young woman asked, as she dialed.

“Katrina Demille.”

The woman repeated her name into the receiver.  She smiled, hung up the phone, and turned to Katrina. “He said he’d be right down.”

Katrina nodded and stood feeling uneasy as she waited.

Soon a tall, thin man walked up to the counter.  The teller pointed him toward Katrina.  He adjusted his glasses and smiled shyly.  “I’m Darin Kane.  I’ve been waiting for you.”

He was soft spoken and handsome with bashful blue eyes and an awkwardness that Katrina found appealing.  Katrina felt her back tingle at his comment.  “Really?”

The teller smiled to herself at the exchange and walked back to her chair.

“Yes,” Darin continued.  “I’ve known your mother for years. I helped her with some investments.  I’m so sorry to hear about her and your father.”

Katrina smiled and nodded.  She couldn’t help notice the curve of his jaw and the shape of his nose.

He stood and then looked down at the awkward silence.  He scratched his neck and motioned toward the hallway.  He touched her arm, while leading her toward the stairs. “She gave me an envelope and asked that I keep it until you came.  I wouldn’t normally do this, but she was a nice lady.  It’s in my office.  She spoke about you often.  Why haven’t you been in before?” he asked.

She shrugged, but now Katrina wondered that herself.  She remembered her mother talking about the nice man at the bank, but Katrina ignored her mother’s persistence at finding her a mate.  She had become accepting of her lot in life and didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her, especially her mother.

Katrina followed him up the stairs and into a room piled high with books and papers.  Large windows framed the snow flurries outside, making the inside seem especially warm and secure.

He smiled.  “Here’s the envelope,” he said, handing it to her.

She took it from him, noticing the warmth of his palm.  Katrina stood for a moment with the envelope in her hand.  She wanted to stay, but there was no reason, and in time she would say something silly or odd, so she shifted her books and began to leave.  “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” Darin said, quietly.

Katrina paused at the door and gave him another smile.  Inside she was screaming at herself for not being more smooth, more alluring, less her.  He looked ready to speak, but just nodded, so she left.  When she reached the vault, she located the other box and began to open it.

“You forgot your heart,” Darin called to her from behind.

Startled, Katrina turned back.  “What did you say?” she asked.

He held up the locket.  “Your heart necklace?  You left it on my desk.”

“Oh,” Katrina answered, walking toward him.  “I’m sorry you had to come all the way back down here.”

Darin shuffled shyly, as she retrieved her heart from his hand.  “I’m not,” he answered quietly.  He looked at her and smiled at the fact that her coat collar was turned the wrong way and a strand of red curl was looped through her glasses.  “Do you have plans for dinner?” he asked, clumsily.

“It’s ten in the morning,” she answered.  Then she realized what he meant and her face went red.

He laughed.

Katrina cringed.  “I’m sorry,” she said, horrified. “I thought…” she didn’t even know how to answer.

The tellers all looked over, which made Katrina squirm even worse.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight, at say seven?” Darin asked.  He gave a smile as punctuation.

Katrina looked up at him surprised.  She wanted to blurt out- Yes!  But instead she restrained herself to a simple- “That would be nice.”

Darin grinned in relief.  “Great, I’ll call you.”  He then turned and began to walk out of the vault.

“Wait!” Katrina called.  “Don’t you need my phone number?”

Darin stopped and smiled, “No.  Actually, your mother gave me your phone number in case you didn’t come for the envelope.  She wanted to make sure I could find you.”

Katrina smiled; knowing Darin had no idea the volumes he spoke with just a few words.  She watched him walk away, then turned back to the box, feeling giddy as she opened it.  Inside was the other half of the broken locket.  It held a picture of Grace- her beautiful smiling face beaming up at her daughter.  “You sneaky old woman,” Katrina said, as she admired her mother.  She snapped the other half of the locket- the half that held the picture of her father- together with it, realizing then that it was never really broken.  “It just needed some help to find it’s other half,” she whispered, holding it tightly.  “Maybe for some, destiny just needs a little push.”

#

Brenda Stanley is a former television news anchor and investigative reporter for the NBC affiliate in Eastern Idaho. She has been recognized for her writing by the Scripps Howard Foundation, the Hearst Journalism Awards, The Idaho Press Club and the Society for Professional Journalists. Brenda is the author of three novels and three cookbooks. She is a weekly food and cooking columnist for two newspapers.

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