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Latest Stories

April 29, 2025
Fantasy Stories Chris Turner-Neal

The Gorgon’s Climb

I am the only one of us who calls it rape. Stheno, when she must mention it, says “our bad luck;” Medusa shrugs and says “gods don’t have to ask.” And I say but they should and she says but they don’t and Stheno says this attitude doesn’t help, and she’s…
April 29, 2025
Poetry Riya Gulati

Poem Sending A Strong Message To Avert Dowry Deaths

I am going to share a story which will tell you why one should never give dowry(?) It was a rainy day in the month of May, A twenty-four-year-old girl who had a heart of a pearl, And was her parent’s love- was unfortunately burnt on the stove! Six months ago,…
April 29, 2025
General Stories Jon Moray

And In Cursive Also

Korwin was wrapping up his duties at the Senior Living Facility, and his last stop was Sal, a ninety-five-year-old relic from the 1st half of the last century. Sal was listening to the ballgame on his AM/FM transistor radio he had owned for fifty years. "I…
April 29, 2025
Flash Fiction Riya Gulati

An Adventurous And Petrifying Visit To The Dreamland

It was a quiet December afternoon, the kind where snow settled like silence over the town of Fairydom. In this hushed world lived Leah, a gentle and thoughtful girl with a head full of dreams and a heart full of hope. One day, fate, or so it seemed, offered…
April 29, 2025
Horror Stories Steven Bruce

The Unwoven

Tom Matheson never believed in conspiracy theories. But after the layoffs, after Dana stopped returning his calls, after the noise of the world grew too loud, his life dissolved into a numbing routine of late nights and endless scrolling through anonymous…
April 29, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Ocelotlzin

The Last Voyage Of The Eternal Horizon

Space date 4.00.20.338.70 Log 5456.8974.2358-7 Location. Sagittarius Constellation Spaceship. “Eternal Horizon” Type. War spaceship Mission. Classified. Lt First Class Dorian Manteaus. Navigator “Colonel, we are receiving some bizarre signals in our radar…
April 29, 2025
Poetry Riya Gulati

Promoting Clean Sport And Fair Play

It’s a story of a world-class athlete, who trained day and night to fairly win and compete. He was invincible and unstoppable, And lead a disciplined life that was indeed irresistible. He would be seen 24*7 practicing in the field. Undeniably, it was assured…
April 29, 2025
General Stories Nelly Shulman

What Goes Around Comes Around

A crystal ball emanated a rainbow of colors, and Mr. Grenville winced. “Does it really work?” he asked dryly, “or do you just keep it here for the gullible visitors, like the rest of your magic act?” The young woman sprawled on the velvet couch—marked with…
April 10, 2025
Flash Fiction amishra

Code Black

"A horrific past is echoing again. Somewhere, a horrific truth had been buried and forgotten. A truth so vitriolic, that it would dissolve the guts of even a strong-minded, seasoned surgeon. Abhyuday Sharma had no clue about any of this before he joined New…
April 10, 2025
General Stories amishra

I Love The Way You Smile

Panjim, Goa, comes alive as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Mandovi river. The narrow streets hum the rhythm of night at the characteristic laid-back tempo of the city. Tucked along a bustling lane near the riverfront sits The…
April 10, 2025
Flash Fiction yuan changming

Autumn Tiger

Walking back to my hotel from Yasi, where I had my three meals every day, I noticed several ads for rent, which caused me to reflect on my awkward situation. As her mother could be dying at home any time after two strokes in a run, Hua had moved to Shangyite…
April 10, 2025
General Stories Markus J

The Border Crossing

"Passports please" demanded the border guard, to the Western couple. They nervously handed over their lives. Two military men flanked the guard .Resting in their hands, machine guns, locked and loaded. Both men looked into space with a deadpan stare. Thinking…

Shines like a beacon - Editor

My Wife Glows in the Dark

by Brian Ross

My wife is following me.

Again.

Lately, I have been distant: hands-off when she wants me to be hands-on, too busy or too tired when she wants to talk. She has suspicious blood, my wife, but she trips over her reckless curiosity. She does the math, comes up with five, and paints herself a pretty picture. Next thing I know, I’m watching my back because she’s on it.

She never stops to ask why.

So we play the game.

She asks me how my racquet-ball practice was and I say, great thanks. I rub my shoulder convincingly as she tells me about her evening of dishes and dirty nappies. Her story is as transparent as mine, but I’m working a lie so I don’t question hers.

She is a poor detective - more Clouseau than Poirot. She thinks I don’t see her - behind cars, in doorways, around corners - but I do. I see everything. She doesn’t move when my eyes try to find her, but she is there just the same, not realising that I have her chasing her own tail.

I’m happy to indulge her, to pretend I don’t notice my new shadow, because she will only ever see what I want her to. And besides, after tonight, she won’t do it again.

#

“It’s work, honey,” I tell her, already shrugging my jacket on. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

I’m a doctor, so leaving the house at eleven-thirty on a Thursday night isn’t such a stretch. I have made midnight trips before: I have saved lives at this hour several times. This one though is different. Make up a patient, give him a name, a tumour, two months to live. Shake and stir.

I cross the street and make as if I’m checking for traffic, but there are no cars at this time of night, and it’s really her I’m looking for. She’s still there, hands frightened by her sides, pretending to be interested in the sides of beef Joe has in his butcher’s window.

My wife, the vegetarian. She can’t fool me.

The town is black, but the truth cannot be masked by flicking a switch and killing the light.

I turn up my collar and sink deeper into the gloom.

I pass a guy on the street, his hands shoved deep into his pockets like he is digging for answers. His eyes meet mine as our shadows merge under a street-lamp, and he quickly looks back at his guilty feet, as they take him towards the wrong bed.

I turn the corner and there’s the building I’m looking for. Five storys. There are a few yellow eyes in the wall of concrete and black glass: dozens of numbers on the silver panel by the door. I press forty-two, and say:

“Sorry to bother you so late, but I’ve locked myself out. Can you let me in please? It’s seventeen. Thanks, man.”

He doesn’t say a word. There is a buzz, the lock springs, and I push inside. The door falls closed on my tail.

The outside chill is replaced by artificial warmth. The heating system tick-ticks within the walls of the building like a telltale heart.

I climb the stairs, passing seventeen, and throw a look over my shoulder.

Nothing.

She has learned fast, but not fast enough.

Out of sight, and soon to be out of her mind, I think, almost loud enough to hear outside my own head.

When I reach the third floor, Number Forty-Two is standing in his doorway. Bare feet, wild hair, black pants. His middle-of-the-night curiosity is a dangerous thing, although at this moment he doesn’t realise it. I don’t mind. It saves me knocking or breaking in.

Less noise, more haste.

I walk up to him and say: “I believe you know my wife.”

It’s not a question but he seems to think it is. I can see him wondering who the hell I am and why the hell I’m here. He looks at me strangely - because comprehension is asleep at midnight - then tries to say something, but I am not interested in any of his excuses.

I pull a gun from my inside pocket and shoot him three times in the chest.

Phfft.

Phfft.

Phfft.

Silencers are wonderful. It’s like plugging a pillow.

Forty-Two falls back and hits the carpet, dead before he does. I’m a doctor. These things I know.

I put the gun back into my jacket and make my way downstairs.

My wife is standing in the foyer with her mouth open, looking at me the way people do when they don’t know what to say.

I smile and brush past her into the night.

You see, a cheat is easy to see, and a betrayal of the heart shines like a beacon.

My wife glows.

But not anymore.

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