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Latest Stories

December 05, 2022
General Stories M Da Costa

Only Sixty Five

Standing outside the supermarket Harold noted the diminishing line of trolleys. It’s going to be busy, like last week. Tuesday was ‘pensioners’ day; besides the specials, it was a time to socialise. His wife, Mavis, was an imposing lady and thanks to her job…
December 05, 2022
Poetry Peter Greenhall

On The Come Down

What a weekend, How great was that? Total mayhem, Too much of that. Sliding down the walls, Excessive sweating too, Can't keep still, Body is aching through and through. Then come the shivers, Poison in my blood, Wish I could detox, Gun in my hand, I really…
December 05, 2022
General Stories D.A. Cairns

A Place of Refuge

“I’m so tired of this weather,” said Spider. “Me too,” agreed Beetle. “I want to be out running around in the sweet, long grass feeling the sun on my back.” She extended and beat her wings suddenly out of frustration. “Calm down,” said Spider. “It can’t rain…
December 05, 2022
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Relief Its Over

Thank god we no longer exist, A couple, Together, A faded mist Smiles and laughter, At times it was great, Who could be dafter?, Oh for f**k sake. Then the intimacy began, Between us two, Drinking and flirting, I've got feelings for you. Kisses, a connection,…
December 05, 2022
Romance Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Exploring The Nature Of It

Part One Holding open the door for her was always the better part of my day when life, as it does, places people together, for whatever reason. Our reason was to learn. Her name I prefer to keep to myself and her eyes still have me mistaken. Dark green, I…
November 10, 2022
Horror Stories Robert Pettus

Three Musky Tears

A hulking drop of sizzling, putrid acid-rain crashed with force into Carew Tower, crumbling thousands of the old khaki bricks, sending them falling weightily downward hundreds of feet to the street below—its Art Deco, classic beauty now destroyed. Another…
November 01, 2022
Poetry Ava

Company None

Set up a company. None. I am thinking of what it should be. None. Hard to tell. None of my business. Anywhere and everywhere, ‘How To Discuss What Matters Most’. Live or die. I am on my way to Cambridge. Whether it is your negotiation or your solution, I…
November 01, 2022
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Economy

How can we see this through, Rates rising, Inflation too, How much more, Can we take from you? Blame the war, A far gone place, Energy crisis, In your face. Not of our making, Nor the Russian people too, NATO expansion, Putin warned not too. Costs are way too…
November 01, 2022
General Stories Lawrence Hartmann

The City

She was 40 years old. Halfway to eighty, she thought. Half her life is over. “Today is my birthday,” she said to the waiter at the café. “Happy birthday, ma’am,” the young handsome man said to her. People were calling her “ma’am” now. Was she looking like a…
October 20, 2022
Poetry Ava

Wait For The Sunrise

A morning, Suddenly rain, Not so early, Wait for the sunrise. A typical night, It was raining, Prevented the outdoor artwork, Went back to word. I feel the feeling, It’s from you, But it’s not about me, Save the word. I feel the feeling, Just like you in me,…
October 20, 2022
Poetry Peter Greenhall

The Boys

 Boys, boys, boys, Who do you wanna be, A good boy, naughty boy, or An apple from a bad tree. Boys, boys, boys, The choice is yours to see, Read book's, University, Safe, reliable. Boys, boys, boys, What do you want to do?, Fighting, earning, and screwing, No…
October 20, 2022
Mystery Stories Norman Marcotte

The Nose Knows

The two detectives walked slowly down the path of a blooming field. It was 8:40 am on a sunny Sunday morning when they were called to the suburb of Mapleridge. All they were told was to investigate a situation whereby a body had been found in a park behind a…

Thirty five year-old Ella Mills walked down the aisles of a flea market looking for treasures.   “Ah, there you are,” she said and went to an ornate, box and picked it up and opened it.  The inside was covered in a black material that she thought was velvet, but wasn’t sure. “This will be perfect for my jewelry.”

As she admired the box, a man, who was about seven feet tall, wearing a shining, almost glowing robe, approached her. “May I help you, madam?”

“Uh, yes, I’m interested in this box. It would be perfect for my jewelry.” she said. “What is it made of?  It looks like wood, but I don’t recall seeing wood like this.”

“It is not wood, madam. It is made of a substance that once grew in far-off forests, but can no longer be found anywhere.”

“Well, I’ll take it. How much does it cost?”

“You may have it for one cent.”

“A penny? What’s the joke?”

“No joke. Please take it for one cent.”

“Okay.  Sold,” she said, took it home, and went directly to her bedroom to put her jewelry in it. She put it on her bed, got her jewelry, sat on the bed and opened the box.

“My God, what is that?” she gasped as she stared at a swirling cloud that filled the box. After a moment, she closed the lid.  After several seconds she slowly lifted the lid. “It’s still there. What is it?”

“I am your mind, Ella Mills.”

She pinched her arm. “No, I’m not asleep. Jeez. What are you?”

“I said, I am your mind. I am you, your entire being. I am your mind.”

“How is this happening? A talking box.”

“I am not what you see, a box. I am a living thing. It is not the box that is talking. It is your mind. “Why am I imagining what’s happening?”

“You are not imagining what’s happening. Make up your mind to accept your mind.”

“Huh?”

“I said, make up your mind to accept your mind.”

“This is crazy. My mind isn’t making any sense, and I just don’t like this mumbo jumbo, so

I guess I’ll just close the lid and pretend you never happened,” she said, but couldn’t close it.

“Hey, why won’t the lid close?” she mumbled as she strained to close the lid. After a few moments, she gave up. “This is crazy. What’s going on? Jewelry boxes don’t talk, to say nothing of the babbling nonsense this one is spewing about my mind,” she said angrily, threw the box on the floor, and it broke into several pieces. “Good riddance.”

“You tried to close the lid on your mind. It’s not good to close your mind. A closed mind is an empty mind.”

“Alright, what the hell is going on here?”

“What’s going on is your mind telling you to make up your mind.”

“About what?”

“About what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing is on my mind. My mind is a complete blank.”

“It’s impossible for nothing to be on your mind. If you are alive, and living in the world, then something is on your mind.”

“Go away.”

“You can’t tell your mind to go away. That’s like telling your brain to go away. You can’t get rid of your mind.”

“Alright, so I’m stuck with my mind. Now, what the hell does my mind want from me?”

“Only you know what your mind wants from you. So, what’s on your mind?”

“This is funny. My mind is asking me what’s on it. My mind is talking to itself.”

“Very good. Talk to yourself. That’s a good way to find out what’s on your mind.”

“I have to sit down,” she said and sat on a chair. We’re going around in circles. I don’t know who is talking to whom. If this continues, I’ll go out of my mind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t go out of me, your mind. Where would you go if you could go out of your mind?”

She stared at the broken box for several minutes. “You’re trying to make me crazy, aren’t you? You’re trying to make me think I’m losing my mind?”

“You can’t lose your mind. Can you lose your brain? No. Besides, you don’t even know where your mind is. If you don’t know where something is, you can’t lose it.”

“STOP,” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Two days later, Ella’s sister, May, entered her apartment with a policeman. “I’ve been trying to reach her for two days, officer. I’m afraid something’s happened to her,” she said and went into the living room. “Oh, my God. Ella,” she gasped. What are you doing?”

Ella, who was crawling like a child, looked up. “I lost my mind, and I can’t find it. Will you help me find it?”

Two years later, Ella talked to Dr. Soros, a psychiatrist, as they looked through the window in the door to Ella’s room.  “She’s been crawling around like that for two years. She keeps asking me to help her find her mind. Poor soul.”

“Is there any hope, Dr. Soros,” May asked.

“Yes. I believe she will be fine after she finds what she believes she lost.”

 

The End

 

While teaching speech and English at a community college, Mr. Greenblatt wrote short stories and plays, one of which won a reading at Smith College.  After retiring, he wrote short stories and novellas.  Several of his stories were published in on-line magazines, and others were published in print anthologies.

 

 

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