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Latest Stories

January 10, 2026
Fantasy Stories Garry Harman

Alien Speaker

The Speaker loitered outside the Speaking Nest, floating effortlessly in the thick atmosphere. Small webbings keeping him stable, eyes constantly goggling for food or danger. He took a glance to inspect his armor. In good condition, gleaming and delightful to…
January 10, 2026
General Stories Tom Kropp

Greg’s Grievous Grudge

The man who used the fake identity of JB Strand sat in his little hotel room alone, smoking crack and drinking. His early years haunted him. His mom had been a junkie prostitute that left a map work of scars across his back from cigarette cherries and…
January 10, 2026
Fantasy Stories Garry Harman

Grey Leader

“Blue Leader to Grey Leader. You there, Pappy?” “Roger, Blue Leader. Can’t you see me?” It was getting dark. Grey Leader was happy to be difficult to spot. Being seen could be fatal. Blue Leader and his flight were cruising in close formation, but not too…
January 10, 2026
Flash Fiction Tom Kropp

School Shooter Stopped

"Scot! You have to get to the tech school now! There's a shooter waiting outside right now! He's waiting for the period to end and ambush students! He's got an Uzi machine pistol and another pistol!" Sharon informed Scot. "Name and location?" Scot inquired…
January 10, 2026
General Stories Michael Barlett

Klondike

1897 CHAPTER ONE The brakes on the Sierra steam locomotive screeched as the train pulled into the Townsend Street Depot in San Francisco. When it lurched to a stop, a man carrying a black leather valise grabbed hold of a stanchion to steady himself.…
January 10, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

Year End Reckoning

The doors of the temple of Janus Quirinus …the Senate decreed should be closed on three occasions while I was princeps. Augustus, Res Gestae, Chapter 13 I always find the days between Christmas and New Year to be the most trying span of time in the entire…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Cody Wilkerson

Faith Valentine

With the day just getting started I’m excited for work. Today we receive our weekly mission at my job. I have been groomed into the family business, the perfect child, growing up excelling at everything. But a rebel at heart. When it comes to the job, no one…
January 05, 2026
Fantasy Stories M. R. Blackmoor

Mermaids And Sirens

...when a storm was coming on, and they anticipated that a ship might sink, they swam before it,and sang most sweetly of the delight to be found beneath the water, begging the seafarers not tobe afraid of coming down below.Hans Christian Anderson, The Little…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Invisible Vampires

Tennessee wheats decided to check out the massive car accident pile up on the main strip. She thought that this kind of stuff has been going on for the past year, constantly. Nothing could explain what happened. This woman did an efficient job at tracking the…
January 05, 2026
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The Contemplative Flower Of Violet

The mellow flower of violet is a fineness of the violet's blossom in the moonlight however the small eternity happens in an enchanting woodland solitude genus Viola is minor but wonderful and subtle so tranquil the last night was when a sylvan dream was…
January 05, 2026
Flash Fiction Nelly Shulman

The King of Paris

Louis valued the dry autumn leaves. The dirty coat, the stained blanket, and the old newspapers kept the heat, but the bed of leaves was the best. It wasn’t so cold anyway for the middle of October. Smoking a cigarette butt from his stash, Louis wondered…
January 05, 2026
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

A Killer’s Confession

Ralph Bozeman was a very big man that stood six foot five and weighed just under three hundred pounds of fat and some muscle. He was a pale, average looking white man with dark eyes and brown hair that he kept clipped short. He owned his own business as an…

Everything started at the beginning.
In a very confused moment I was informed that I had been born.
This happened, years ago, on a small isle with an unpronounceable name: Ghawdex, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, and even if everybody attending to the event asserts I was there, too, I must admit I cannot remember it.
I was baptized and they say that in that precise moment all the water in the font evaporated, but I guess it is an overstatement.
I tore down my childhood petal through petal, building reality as an infinite pieces multidimensional puzzle unfolded over the eternal hills of the natal hamlet.
Puberty and adolescence assaulted me without warning, preying on my inexperience and youth. I repaired my rent inner tissues dealing the distressed moments of my treble voice with those of off-key baritone with the charm of a diplodocus and a horsefly trying to dance the black swans 'pas de deux'  together.
Finally time put me the adult costume but my entrails did not know it, adulthood is a chronology, not an ontological condition. My face came in my help: I looked adult.
During some years I tried to save the world but then I realized that my arrival was late... Way too late!
Astride on time I let it carry me ahead, the sad voice of the Mistral and the icy breath of the Cierzo followed my memories after leaving the cosy world of the 'Mare Nostrum' and the universe opened up to my amazed childish eyes of toddler who looked like an adult.
That very innocence and ignorance were my deliverance, nobody could believe that I could be so imbecile! (perfection does not exist except for especial cases as mine) and that belief made them, (people around me) to cook up stories of conspiracies where I abet stronger and darker forces or that I was that darker force myself with wicked, hidden, and unspeakable purposes. This same stories awaken trepidation and fear and took them to show an esteem toward me that they do not feel really, but served well to preserve me from greater evils.
So I flew over human miseries, mine and others, filling my empty days with arias and readings that as guardian angels wrapped my soul and let me be happy even in the middle of cruel vicissitudes.
Then again, the meddlesome time stated that I was an old man and to my chagrin my body agreed: each time I told to my body: "Let's run to that bush and jump over it"!, my body answered: "Who, me ?!!
And it happened that the inner child found himself alone: older people thought him crazy, and younger fellows, not understanding his predicament, thought him a lunatic.
Again, innocence and ignorance came to help me, looking around I found that my experience in languages acquired in years of traveling our rickety planet could be used to balance different cultures from language to language.
Unscrupulously and with the freedom that only youth can use I started to be a translator and Luck, who as a good female she is, loves naiveté and babies rewarded me letting me feel my intention accomplished, which is all you need to feel successful... Years went by and one day, adding to my already very confused nature I was informed that I was not any more part of those that warm their bones in the fire of Life.
With my usual soft resignation to the inevitable, I tied up my little baggage with the few belongings I had: some blurred memories of warm and kind hands which owners I couldn't remember and with a feeling of light-heartedness started my journey toward the unknown.
After a trip on a parallel line to time I found myself on a beautiful meadow almost alive in timing with a breeze that made the stems of shining dandelions move as a lively sea.
Colours danced between earth and sky leaving hue wakes that filled the eye with new scents and Immensity coiled in the hollow of my hand as if infinity wrapped around my fingers tried to comfort that daily solitude that clothed me in life.
I quickly removed my footwear and began to walk on the soft grass that carpeted the ground. The contact of the gramma and soil with my feet revealed a new secret:
This was home... No, Home!
I started to run and jump over low shrubs, now my body followed me in happy conjunction.
I felt the urgency to lie down over the grass as long as I were and I must be very long since I could not see my feet. I looked up to the sky, the clouds were so beautiful that I wanted to sing and tell the world my feelings so humankind could be with me in this extravagant experience.
Then I knew it! I had to sing it!, I had to write it! And I remembered a sentence read many years ago, I do not recall where from: "unless you change and become like little children..."
That had been, that IS my Gift: "to change and become like a little child", all my life was like that, full and filled by grace. I understood it then and I wanted to convert that gift in my legacy.
I took a thin dandelion spike and moistening it in some dew drops I started to write this tragicomic story of mine and the secret message so, if there are people who still ask themselves what are they doing in the world, could find a small compass showing that deep in our heart always there is a reason to live.
And then again, my innocence and ignorance make me believe that I have thread for a yarn and as a writer this words will reach the heart of my readers...

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