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Latest Stories

July 28, 2018
Mystery Stories Roger Ley

The Wheel Fiddle

The melody drifted across the garden as she was picking fruit to make a summer pudding. She put down her basket, wiped the sweat from her forehead and walked around to the front of the cottage. The man stood waiting at her garden gate, he raised his cap. He…
July 28, 2018
Flash Fiction Rekha Viswanathan

Pills and Capsules

I wake up to a crisp, clear and sunny morning. The fresh coffee smell beside my bed tempts me. One long sip of the coffee and my senses kick in! I have a long day ahead. At least that's what the papers at the foot of my bed say. Glancing at the paper I see…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Stephen A Murray


There existed in Russia a small group of intelligence operatives left over from the KGB. They are known as Sputniks. From Wikipedia: "Sputnik was the first artificial Earth satellite. The Soviet Union launched it into an elliptical low Earth orbit on October…
July 28, 2018
General Stories Paul Anobile

A Portrait of Slam Bang City

I was hired to paint the portrait of a billionaire who founded a small city twenty years ago in a ghost town he purchased in Arizona. Danny O’Keefe, professional wrestling promoter and executive, convinced a number of investors to build a fourteen-thousand…
July 28, 2018
Science Fiction Stories Majoki

The Deadest Generation

Sergeant Taylor always checked us thoroughly before sending us in: regulation uniform, backpacks, anti-ballistic helmets, Kevlar vests, and, of course, your gun. You couldn’t go anywhere in this place and be safe without your gun. Sergeant Taylor was strict…
July 28, 2018
General Stories J.B.Stevens

Dead Camel

The improvised explosive popped off to the convoy’s left. The armored black Suburban Neil drove muffled the sound to a dull thud. The blast seemed smaller than normal. “Anyone hurt?” the medic, Luiz, called across the radio. The team members, in four matching…
July 28, 2018
Romance Stories Jerry Hogan

He'll Ask Me To Dance Again

Jay I’m Jay, and I have never been to the My Time Dance Studio before tonight. As I entered, the interior projected a garish 1930s Art Deco motif. Greenish, glow-in-the-dark, semilucent plastic tubing wrapped around the hand railings separating one sitting…
July 28, 2018
General Stories Jim Bartlett

The Comebacker

Cornstalk stretches forward, the look almost as if he’s about to fall headfirst off the mound, saved only by the slapping of his left hand to his knee. He locks eyes with his catcher, then lets his gaze wander down just below his glove for the sign. Uncle…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Susan C. Nigra

Never Kill The Author

Oh My God! What’s happening? This has never happened before. I am cornered, trapped, boxed in with no safe way out. There has always been a way out before, miraculous last minute saves. I think back to how I got here and I remember I was assigned this case as…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Thomas Schmidt

The Streets of Camden

Saturday night was cold and wet. Mike Joseph walked cautiously down Norris Street on his way to the Whitman Park Field, a large green space inside the depressed neighborhood. Propositioned twice by street walkers, he kept moving while shifting his head from…
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…



Simon glanced at his watch as the elevator passed the 25th floor and stopped at the 24th.  The doors parted and three people stepped on; Simon moved with the crowd to make room for the new passengers.  As the elevator dropped silently, Simon looked at his watch again.  It was 12:06.  He had only one hour for lunch and he didn't like spending any of it in the damn elevator. The elevator stopped at the sixth floor, and, once again, Simon moved with the crowd to make room. This time, he was pushed to the back and forced to endure the discomfort of being pressed between a hard wall and a fat, albeit, soft, perfume-saturated amazon.  He began to feel dizzy as the elevator stopped at the lobby.  The doors opened and a mass of flesh moved quickly toward the revolving doors that led to the street. The thirty-five-year-old stock broker took a deep breath of fresh, perfume-free, polluted city air as he walked briskly away from his office building.

As usual, it took him five minutes to reach the restaurant where he was to meet Donna.  He entered the crowded restaurant and looked for her. As he scanned the crowd, he saw a waving arm; it was Donna. He sighed and moved into the restaurant. After narrowly missing several speeding waiters, Simon reached Donna's table and slid into the chair opposite her.  He wriggled out of his overcoat and draped it over the back of his chair.

"At last. I'm here."  He took her hands in his and smiled lovingly at her. "You look great."

She did look lovely in her sexy, black dress. He was especially aware of her beautiful, blond hair that fell sensuously on her shoulders. "I'm glad you're here. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he assured her. "The week seemed like an eternity."

"Will we be able to meet this weekend," she whispered.

As Simon was about to answer her, a voice attached to a middle-aged body with a black apron around its middle asked if they were ready to order. “Bring us two house salads, please,” Donna said, and the waiter scooped up the menus and left.

"I won't know if I can get away until Friday.  My mother-in-law might be coming to visit. If she does, my wife will probably take her shopping.  That will mean they'll be away for most of Saturday. Keep your fingers crossed."

"I hope you`ll be able to get away, Simon. I really need you."

"It's so unfair, Donna.  Why couldn't we have met ten years ago? Why do I have to be with the wrong person? Why? You were smart. You got out of your bad marriage before you got in too deep. Why didn't I?  If I had known a long time ago that I could feel what I feel with you, I... hell, it doesn't do any good to agonize. It's just that I want to be with you so badly, but all we can do is meet like two thieves in the night." Simon sighed and leaned back in his chair just as the waiter came with the salads and left.  Simon picked up his fork and looked at Donna, who had tears in her eyes.

"Donna, you’re crying?"

"I'm sorry, Simon. I can't help it. I love you so much and I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me, but we can't be together." She took a dainty handkerchief from her purse and wiped her eyes. "Simon. It's getting late, and we have to get back to work. Let's enjoy these few moments. Okay?"

Simon smiled and nodded.

They ate their lunch and chatted about their love for each other.  After they finished eating, the waiter brought the bill. After checking the waiter's addition, Simon placed several bills on the table and then turned to get his coat from the back of his chair. As he was about to pull his coat off the back, he gasped and spun around. Donna, who was zipping her jacket, looked up quickly. "What's wrong, Simon?  You look like you saw a ghost."

Simon leaned forward and whispered, "Look behind me, to your right, in the corner, on the other side of the restaurant. Do you see her?"

"See who?"

"It's Sharon, my wife.  I wasn’t sure when I first saw her because she’s so far away, but she turned and I saw her face for a moment, and I’m sure it’s Sharon."

"Are you sure, Simon?"

"I'm positive.  We've got to get out of here," he said and they walked quickly out of the restaurant.

They met the next day at an out-of-the-way pub. "Yesterday, when you got home?  Did your wife say anything?"

"No, she didn't.  She didn't say a word. I don't know what to think. I can't believe she was at the restaurant by accident.  I think she was following me."  Simon held her hands. “I want you, Donna, and the only way I’m going to have you is if my wife disappears.”

“I don’t understand, Simon. What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill my wife,” he whispered.

Donna’s jaw dropped. “Murder? Simon, I want you as much as you want me, but murder isn’t the answer.  Don’t you watch the news or read the paper? People generally don’t get away with murder. Simon, I don’t want any part of murder. I don’t want to be with a murderer. Stay with your wife. Look, we can get together once in a while.”

“No. A woman as beautiful as you won’t stay single for long. I couldn’t stand thinking of another man making love to you. I’m going to go through with it.”

“Donna will come around. She loves me and she’ll accept that what I’m doing I’m doing for us.” That night, Simon suffocated his wife with a pillow. “There, I did it. Now, Donna and I can be together,” he thought and wrapped his wife’s body in a blanket, took her body to the garage and put it into the trunk of the car. He thought for a moment.  “Where can I bury her? I know. The woods below the Blue Mountains,” he said, got a shovel and drove ten miles to the woods.  After putting her body on the ground, he dug a grave four-feet deep, put her body in and filled the grave with dirt. “There. Nobody will ever find her,” he said and drove home. The next morning, he called Donna. “Donna, meet me for lunch. Our usual place,” he said and hung up.

The next morning, Donna called Simon. “I won’t be able to meet you for lunch, Simon. My boss called a staff meeting that will run from eleven to three. Call me tonight,” she said and hung up.

“Okay, my news will wait. I’ll go to lunch by myself,” he said and left for work. At noon, he went to their usual restaurant and ordered a salad. While he waited, he looked around the restaurant. “No,” he mumbled as he stood up. “It can’t be,” he said and walked slowly toward a table where a woman was sitting. He approached her and she looked up at him. “May I help you?” she said wondering why this person was there.

He stood silently staring wide-eyed at her. After a few moments, he pointed his finger at her. “You can’t be here,” he screamed and began to shake. “I killed you.”

The woman looked terrified at the raving man. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Several men got up from their tables and walked quickly toward Simon.

“You’re dead. I killed you. You have to go back to your grave,” he yelled, and, as he leaped across the table to get at her, the approaching men grabbed him and held him down. “Let me go. She can’t be here. Take her back to her grave. She’s dead.”

The court ruled that Simon was a danger to society and was sent to a facility for the insane, where he was locked in a room. To this day, he paces, and yells over and over and over. “I killed her. She shouldn’t be following me. Take her back to her grave. She’s dead. I killed her. I killed her: I killed her; take her back to her grave. I killed her…….”

It is said that every person has a double, a doppelganger. Obviously, Simon never knew about doppelgangers.

The End


Bio: While teaching communication skills and English at a community college, Mr. Greenblatt wrote short stories and plays, one of which won a reading at Smith College. Since retiring in 2000, he has written short stories and novellas.








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