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Latest Stories

July 13, 2018
Mystery Stories Rekha Viswanathan

The Enchanted Woods

The boys are on a trip. A trip into the woods. Accompanied by their family they trudge along a narrow path, a route that had obviously been traced by human footsteps, a trail that had been trodden many a time. They walk cautiously, startled by the snap of a…
July 13, 2018
Flash Fiction Carl Perrin

What Could go Wrong

If you plan every detail carefully, nothing can go wrong. I believed that when I was a teenager. Like the time Billy Long and I decided to make our own beer. Once in a while we used to steal a couple of Billy’s father’s beers, but we were always afraid we…
July 13, 2018
Mystery Stories Mockingbird

A Million Dollars

They say you come to know a person’s true personality when you are no longer beneficial in their life. But what about the people who never were, what if they were the ones who truly define you. The crowd. The people you see and ignore every day or the ones…
July 13, 2018
Science Fiction Stories Saul Greenblatt

A Search for Food and Water

The day they waited for came. The three explorers sat at a table around which were the project director, project managers and assistants. The project director stood. “You three are ready to venture into space to explore a planet that our scientists say is…
July 13, 2018
Crime Stories Thomas Schmidt

Callous Disregard

Myles O'Leary had always been competitive. He saw life as basically a challenge, a challenge that pitted him against the world. And Myles wanted to win. So when news came out that a business competitor, the Strand Corporation, was up for sale, Myles jumped at…
June 24, 2018
Romance Stories Chris Bedell

Better Offer

Admitting I decided to give online dating a try wasn’t something I’d blab about to my parents even if I was almost 29. And no, worrying about what my parents thought didn’t make me strange. My dad was the first person to complain about everything. Like when…
June 24, 2018
Flash Fiction Jim Harrington

Family Reunion

I’m going to a family reunion soon—kind of. You see, I’m dying. The doctor said six months. Right around my sixty-fifth birthday. Bad liver, just like my Pa. Same cause too. We’re both drunks, but I didn’t go around beating up on women and children. In the…
June 24, 2018
Fantasy Stories Stephen J. Matlock

Only A Mother's Love

When the Vreesek conquered Earth, they brought their gods. They don’t plunder our resources. They keep to themselves. After smashing every defense and cratering capitals, they planted their temple-embassies in a hundred cities. We “rule” ourselves under their…
June 24, 2018
Mystery Stories H.J.Garton

And No Birds Sing

You know those car journeys where you don’t realise until you pull on the handbrake that you’ve just driven for miles with your mind elsewhere the whole time? It was after the interview with Diane that I made one of those. In my apartment, I downed two shots…
June 24, 2018
Romance Stories John L. Yelavich

Hands of Steel, Not Today

This morning I had to go to the local hospital for some routine tests. I feel fine, but I guess my urologist wants to make sure that I am on the right path to wherever it is I’m going. My first scheduled test was an ultrasound. There were six of us in the…
June 17, 2018
Poetry Marty Kay

Hand of God

Then there you were. Calling through the din of war, you beckoned, and I obeyed. I make amends. The muzzle of my gun muted, I mask my military might and squat to greet your greatness. Give me your hand. For I am more than war. A mother; my name is Mary. Call…
June 17, 2018
Crime Stories Scott Sinclair

Saturday Night at Fort Apache

Saturday February 8, 1973 I never thought I’d be a cop on the take. Hell, I never planned on being a cop period. My goal was to follow in the footsteps of my older brother Scotty and join the fire department. Succumbing to family pressure to not follow Scotty…



I say to him “I thought you liked orange juice with the bits in it” and he says “No I like orange juice without the bits in it” and as it’s only been 45 minutes since he told me he bumped into Kate last night and she looked “pretty sexy…like some kind of, you know, hostess”, I take his glass of orange juice (with the bits in it) and I throw it across the room so it hits the corner of his wooden bed frame and smashes across the floor. I’m glad the little pieces of glass fly in all kinds of directions so I can only hope that he tramples on a chunk. I leave his stupid shared house, full of arrogant pigs, and I storm home to think about what I can do next.

I sit on my bed to gather my furious thoughts and then I hear an annoying, high pitched, buzzing sound coming from my dvd player. I consider throwing it out the window but it’s too heavy and I don’t want to make a mess. I pull the plug out and in a state of exaggerated rage I carry it to a charity shop. The sweaty and slightly overweight guy in the charity shop says “Thanks for your donation” and I go home, change my bed sheets and feel much better for 3 minutes. Then I think about smashing up everything in my kitchen but again, I don’t want to make a mess.

I think about running away but I can’t find the right shoes. I take my phone and I scream to him, at the top of my text message voice, “I WISH I’D NEVER MET YOU!” and he doesn’t even flinch. I decide I’m not going outside for at least a week and I don’t have the right shoes anyway. I look at my wonderful television and my television says to me “Stay here with me and I’ll make you feel better”. I say to my television “But I love him” and my television says to me “I know. But you can love me now and you don’t even have to brush your hair”.



I’m seated at a table next to a loud, cocky music journalist who says he’s just finished working with Kayne West and I laugh but he says he’s serious and I laugh again. He says he likes my purse and then I let him buy me a couple of drinks. He keeps looking at me and talking to me as if he wants to sleep with me and the more he tells me about how much he doesn’t get on with his family, the more I think I may as well. Then, I don’t know why, perhaps it’s because we’re at a wedding, but I spend a few (quite painful) minutes telling him the story of when I was 8 years old and I brought my favourite Barbie into school for Show and Tell. I say, “So I told the class that I’d dressed her in yellow… because I was happy my dad was coming home for the weekend and then afterwards the boys teased me for bringing a doll to school! Anyway I was so confused so I said to this one boy, his name was Thomas, I said ‘Thomas! Why don’t you love me?’ which I know is a bit crazy but I was only a kid but you know what he did? That little bastard started crying… uncontrollably and he was shouting that I was weird and I couldn’t believe it so I put my lunchbox down, I remember it was a Nellie the Elephant one, and I pushed him over in the middle of that playground and you know what I said? I said to him ‘NEVER hold my hand OR GEMMA’S HAND ever again’ Gemma was nice and everything but I remember I was fed up of her getting all the boys all the time”. The music journalist looks at me like I’m mad and then there’s the bride’s speech, the groom’s speech, the best man’s speech and the father of the bride’s speech and everyone claps. And then the music journalist looks at me like he doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore and I’m glad because I think he’s awful really and I don’t want to sleep with someone who’s awful because in the end I don’t want to marry someone I think is awful.

Yet when I’m home I write a letter to my Pill and I say to my Pill “Make me beautiful!” and my Pill writes back (taking the key points) “I can’t make you beautiful. I can only try to stop those boys from impregnating you”. I think it’s typical of my Pill to say this. It expects me to take it at the same time every day but in return it can’t 100% promise anything and I find this very frustrating. If I can’t trust my Pill then who can I trust?


I’ve been here before and the doctor says to me “Is there a chance you’re pregnant?” I say “Well yes, there’s always a chance isn’t there?” and the doctor says “Sorry? Do you think you may be pregnant?” I say “No. I haven’t had sex in a long time” and the doctor’s computer asks me if I’m okay and if I want a hug and I tell the computer that I’m okay. The doctor looks at me as if I’m supposed to tell him about my whole life in eleven minutes.

I am a young teacher and writer. Aimed at young modern women, you can read my short stories and essays etc. at:



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