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Latest Stories

February 06, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

The Lost Williamsen

Coming back from Switzerland, after my wife died, was pretty hard, but I made it. When I landed in LaGuardia airport. I went to go get my luggage. That's where my brother Eddie was, to pick me up and to see the rest of the family. Eddie comes over to me and…
February 06, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Killing & Carnage

The sun was a blood lurid red slipping below the jagged peaks of the Redmount Mountains. For Shannon, its fading light was not a promise of rest, but a countdown to her dark side.​ She pressed her spine against the damp, crumbling limestone of a marketplace…
February 06, 2026
Poetry Markus J

2 Aussie Limericks 2 Aussie Clerihews

once a aussie yobbo named pete who only wore thongs on his feet a bunion grew on his toes and a red wart on his nose over were his days at the beach ------------------------------------------------------ there once was a jackaroo who went by the name of blue…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

My Second Middle Name

San Lázaro no quiere palabras, quiere hechos. Popular Cuban refrain A few hours after I was born, my parents had a conversation regarding my name. The usual practice in Cuba, as in many other countries, was that a baby would have two given names apart from…
February 02, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Year One

T J Tuner, Sonny Turner and Curt Chown January 4, 1976- Ocean avenue, Brooklyn New York: Sonny and his wife are having coffee at 5pm Sunday. His wife’s name is Candy. This is when Candy asks ‘When are they picking you up?’ Sonny says ‘7:30 pm.’ Candy asks…
February 02, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Werewolf Bar Brawl

Shannon returned to the main street and boldly approached the cantina. At the doorway, one of the burly guards boldly said, "We don't allow no outside whores in here. Only Diego's girls are allowed to work here." "Don't insult me. I'm not a whore. I just…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Self-Serving Giraffe

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. Oscar Wilde Grumpff was a Somali giraffe male (Giraffa reticulata) in a herd that inhabited a dry savannah in northern Kenya. He was eighteen feet tall and two…
February 02, 2026
Poetry Markus J

An Aussie Had A Barry Crocker

once an Aussie had a Barry Crocker when he got fined from an angry copper he smoked up his golden ute then said it was real beaut because of this, the fine was made double and his best mate was nicked named blue cooked kangaroo and emu stew gave none to…
February 02, 2026
Crime Stories Shane Horton

Super Detectives (Queen Bee)

The smoke of my cigarette dances on the fire of its embers while I breathe in the tar. Chills silently run along my body from the slow breezes of the city. Exposed skin is cold like chunks of ice from the late winter. Honking, common yelling, and occasional…
February 02, 2026
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Eye Of The Cyborg

Fierce winds whipped across the blood red desert of Dumar and its stormy scarlet skies were filled with soaring starships. A large city sparkled in the hellish light, safe from the storm behind flickering photonic forcefields. It was a volatile planet prone…
January 27, 2026
General Stories J.P. Young

Bittersweet Christmastide In A Winter Wonderland

“Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.” ― Percy Bysshe Shelley “It”s always sumtin”, ain”t it?” – Rico Long ago and far away…Things were like the good old days…and as Rico said, Ray lived for the good olddays…As his wife Katrina was working late at…
January 27, 2026
Fantasy Stories Fayaway & Hermester Barrington

Three Days' Flight to Mitrúvishar

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024 From: John Parchment <dragonwriter@mitruvishar.com> To: Emmett Zuntz <ezuntz@majicorpmedia.com> Dear Mr. Zuntz, thou ASCII Mephistopheles, I hereby tender my resignation to Majicorp Media. When I left my secure-but-boring…

The woman of indeterminate age pointed at the sign over the davenport. “Dead! See, it must be a dead celebrity. Otherwise, the company would have a different name.”

“You said Carey Grant was taken.” The twenty something female seemed to have no other facial expression than bored.

The woman nodded. “Because it is true. Halloween is our busiest time. Mr. Grant is booked three, ah, four years in advance. I could put you down for 2019.”

“Not Hugh Grant?”

“Not dead!” The woman frowned as evil an expression as she had.

“Shakespeare!”

The woman shook her aged head. “He doesn’t speak English. Not modern English. You wouldn’t understand him. He’s no fun anyway. I know.”

“Hitler!” The girl giggled but still looked bored.

“Asocial. He doesn’t like parties.” The woman’s laugh sounded more than evil. “Except the Nazi party. Ha! And the English thing again.”

The girl’s face reddened. “They have sex and stuff?” She giggled. “Girl friend wanted to know.”

“Ghosts. Unsubstantial. Put it together.”

“What together?” The girl looked confused but it wasn’t much different from bored.

The woman sighed painfully, more a rasp. “No.”

“This is a joke, right? I’m being punked.” The girl looked up at the ceiling.

“You came to us.”

“Right.”

“Right.” The woman creaked as she stood up. Surprisingly, it didn’t change her height. “I would like to start a dead customer service.” She muttered to herself and then louder. “Fatty Arbuckle is always asking me to set something up.”

“Who?” The girl frowned looking up from her phone. “He’s really fat? Ugh. Jeffrey Dahmer! Yes, Dahmer. Perfect for Frank’s Serial Killers party. Yes, I’ll go to Frank’s.”

The woman laughed evilly. “Yes, perfect for you. Done. I’ll just go call him up.” Perfect, she had lied about the unsubstantial part.

THE END

Michael W. Clark a biologist and writer with nineteen short stories published.  Most recently his stories have appeared in Lost Souls, Surprising Stories, Trembles, 69 Flavors of Paranoia, Morpheus Tales, Imaginarum out of U.C, Berkeley, Dark Edifice, Death Throes and Black Heart Magazine.

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