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Latest Stories

October 14, 2018
Crime Stories Julie Achilles

The Boy in a Hoodie

I am walking along the road, the road that leads to home and I see him. I do not know him but for some reason I know there is a significance. He is casually dressed and wearing a grey hoodie which is pulled up, yet, I can still see his face. I can see that he…
October 14, 2018
Fantasy Stories M.B.Manteufel

Two Heads are Better than One

He opened the jewelry box with one gloved hand, holding steady a slim flashlight with the other. He cursed under his breath. Empty. Again. Matt Sanders wasn’t used to bad luck. He had become one of the best in his profession because he refused to rely on…
October 14, 2018
General Stories Julie Harris

The Man Who Left His Wife With A Goat

The morning’s warm rain finally drizzled to a wind-blown spray before a strong sun blazed in the cloudless sky. Christine stood motionless at the kitchen sink staring beyond the teardrop stained window to where he stood watching from the summer house.…
October 14, 2018
Mystery Stories Salvatore Difalco

Vertigo

Juan rose to pee in pitch darkness, his eyes fluttering. He found the toilet, but peed all over the unraised seat, splashing his shins and toes. Catching jeweled glints of chrome and glass, his eyes oriented to the darkness. Incomprehensible, his next move—he…
September 09, 2018
Crime Stories Frankie Neptune

It's The End of The World as We Knew It

 Reggie Benangin had always been this way. He couldn’t do anything right. The following is true - Though not even Polish, he couldn’t screw in a light bulb. When growing up in Westfield, New Jersey, his father knew never to ask Reggie to cut the grass. Every…
September 09, 2018
Horror Stories Vidal Martinez

La Llorona

I almost slam my head on the dashboard when the car suddenly stops in the middle of the dirt road. “What are you doing?” He looks behind me. “Right there… those trees,” he says. “Are you serious?” I look out the passenger window, and in the dark distance is…
September 09, 2018
Mystery Stories Roger Ley

Curing Brian

The day started pleasantly enough, we’d met for our regular game of tennis, the old reliables, Chris, Marilyn, Malcolm and me. Then the man in the dirty suit appeared and everything changed. It was summer and the weather was warm, so we’d used the outside…
September 09, 2018
Romance Stories John L. Yelavich

Sunny Souls

I have fond recollections of my high school years roaming the hallways with my best pals and their gals. We all thought that we embodied the right stuff or whatever that mindset was. We were all proud, cocky and cool and never wanted to be labeled pretenders…
September 09, 2018
Science Fiction Stories Majoki

Snarge

What do you think we hit? Can’t say. We went through the critters pretty fast. I’ve never seen anything quite like that flock: multicolored, almost metallic-looking, circling in a protective formation. Very strange. We’ll have to wait until the techs evaluate…
August 21, 2018
Fantasy Stories Roger Ley

Making Babies

Martin Riley unlocked his front door, stepped over the threshold, and stopped dead. Everything was different: furniture, décor, layout, all changed. It didn’t look like his house anymore. A voice behind him said, “Hello Darling, I have some wonderful news.…
August 21, 2018
Science Fiction Stories R.Scott Venegas

How Far Back?

“The test subjects’ mental acuity, such as it is, and physiology are unaffected, the samples it obtained show little out of the ordinary, however it is quite agitated.” “Is it?” “Yes, seems it was spotted and chased.” “Did it do any damage during the…
August 21, 2018
Romance Stories Susan C. Nigra

A Lie is Born

Dec. 12, 2012 was a dreary uninspired winter day, and also the day I returned to relive the beginning of the lie. It was 43 years ago when I first came here at the tender age of 23 in high spirits... high on life, high on being young; and I have returned 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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