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Latest Stories

May 19, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jo Carroll

The Curl and Vampire

She was a pretty thing to be sure, the little girl with the curl. Her cheeks were as red as blood and her skin as smooth as porcelain. And yet there was something odd about her clear blue eyes—something empty and soulless. She sat atop her throne of building…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Nicole Robb

New Frontier

Still groggy from her hibernation chamber, Stacey checked the readings once again on the ship's control panel.She had read them right. "Tom! Something's wrong." "What is it?" Tom emerged from the back where he had been checking on the twelve hundred sleeping…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Laura Ellison

Remedy

The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive. Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Dylan Thomas Nichol

Forged in Shadows

Screaming was all that could be heard through the bone chilling halls of the dungeon. This was what the supposedly great nation of Hace really was. An ugly abomination lay underneath the stunning Admor Keep, and Caelin made the long journey through it, his…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Isabel Schwaak

Something Stronger

A thick grey stone wall separated the village of Telly Fenn from the wilderness. A narrow path led the way out of the village and melted into a crossroad, from which a crooked path strayed far into the dark forest. The inhabitants of Telly Fenn were content…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jade De-Terville

A Light Bulb Called Tink

“This is more than just a bloody mid life crisis,” Karen said clutching a tattered red book, until her knuckles started going white. She savagely threw the book onto the chequered dining cloth, and ran her hands through her untamed hair. “Oi, mind the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories April Winters

Area Twenty Four and a Half

I, Jim Roberts, got fired today. I didn’t realize Mr. Kerr, my boss, was standing behind me when I referred to him as Kerr-mitt. He failed to see the humor, and now I have no source of income. Looks like my journalistic aspirations are out the window. I…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jeremy Szal

Crimson Snow

16th Day of Regon, Year 455 of the First Dawn I could feel the cold as we climbed higher, the chill reaching into my bones. The wind whispered across the grassland, flapping my black hair over my face. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories B.J.Neblett

Forever

“Segue the next couple of records with a jingle then go into a stop set. I’m gonna get some air.” Hy Lit flashed his agreeable smile, adjusted his trade mark tinted glasses and winked. “You’re a natural, kid.” Then he disappeared out the studio door. The…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories BJ Neblett

Pockets Full Of Wishes

“Don’t put your hands in the pockets!” Jimmy looked at his sister. It was just a winter coat, a used one. It was all his parents could afford. But it was his. He picked it out. Now he stood proudly before the store mirror admiring the blue denim coat with the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Laura Ellison

Consumed

Arlia knelt down on a silk cushion in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and centred herself. Gramps always told her to do this, sometimes he jabbed her in the sides with his walking stick if he thought she rushed meditation. In front of her the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Paul Magnan

Scorned

I grasped the rough edges of the tombstone and pulled it from the strands of thick, yellowed grass upon which it lay. I set it in an upright position. The words “Dear Love” were carved along the top of the stone. I had carved those words. For a few seconds…

 

 

“It’s zo nice to finally meet you after all theze weeks,” said Stefan, giving Saul a warm, sensuous hug. “And you vere right—on a beautiful day like dees, an outdoor café vas really the perfect choice.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, too,” said Saul, smiling bashfully, as they sat down across from each other around a small circular table. “The Skyping and video-chatting with you has been great, but it can’t beat being together in person. I’ve been really looking forward to this.”

“Me too,” said Stefan, his royal-blue eyes glimmering and his thin cheeks dimpling. “Dank you tousand times for die flowers, by the vay. They arrived dees morning. They’re really lovely. They’ll really brighten up my summer apartment.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like them. I hope Columbia student housing gave you a decent place to stay.”

“Vell,” said Stefan, shrugging his slim shoulders and running his right hand through his wavy black hair, “it vill do. I’m only here for one month. And I’ll be spending mozt of my time in the library, anyvay. My Humboldt U. summer-study-abroad fellowship iz contingent upon me being able to produze at leazt die first chapter of my thesis. Zo I vill have my vork cut hard for me.”

“You mean you will have your work ‘cut out’ for you?”

“Iz dat how you zay it? I am steel not zo good with die idioms.”

“Your English is excellent, Stefan.”

“Dank you, dank you tousend times! I must zay,” said Stefan, leaning forward and grazing his right index finger with his chin, “you are much better looking in perzon den you are on screen.” Saul’s cheeks reddened. “And your match.com profile picture nowhere near makes you justice.”

“’Does you justice.’”

“Yes, dank you, dank you tousend times…”

Saul thought about telling Stefan that he found his English malapropisms charming and his thick German accent strangely seductive, but he decided against it; it would have been the truth, but it would not have helped him convey the other truth that he knew he needed to reveal to Stefan.

“I vould tell you to change the picture, but, den again,” continued Stefan, his eyes lighting up like lamps and his rose-red lips stretching into a broad, beaming smile, “at dees point, I von’t—I vouldn’t vant anyone elze to have you.”

Saul laughed, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. He knew that he should have been profoundly happy—even exuberant—that the meeting that he had for weeks been terribly hoping would go well was going even better than he could have ever imagined. He had done everything he could think of to make sure that it would. He knew that his German was not good, but that morning he had sent Stefan a text in German, trying his best to impress him: “Ich bin sehr glücklich das du kommest zu New York! Ich hoffe das du haben guten Reisen gestern und ich hoffe das du (enjoy) dich Unterhalt bei uns in USA!” He couldn’t remember how to say “enjoy”—“lustig”? “Froh”? “Freude”? None of them sounded right to him, so he simply, and embarrassingly, left the English word in the sentence, hoping that Stefan would at least appreciate the effort he was making to communicate with him in his language. He had put on his best blue dress shirt and his Calvin Klein khakis and his new wingtip shoes. He had even put product in his sandy-blond hair—and he never put product in his hair. But he still felt uneasy; the reality of what he knew he would have to tell Stefan was weighing on him like an entire stack of checked out Butler Library books.

A waiter came over to their table to take their order. Saul was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear what Stefan ordered.

“And for you, sir?” asked the waiter, turning to Saul.

“Oh…uh…just a glass of water.”

“Are you sure?” asked Stefan, a look of concern coming across his olive-skinned face, which was clean-shaven save for a few specks of well-manicured stubble on the bottom and edges of his strong square chin. “I’ll pay for it.”

“Yes, I’m sure…thank you, Stefan, but I really shouldn’t stay for long.”

“Is everything alright?” asked Stefan, the light in his eyes slightly dimming and the luster of his smile somewhat fading. “Yes, everything’s fine, Stefan. It’s just that—Oh, God, I feel so awful about this, but…” He bit his lip.

“It’s ok, Saul,” said Stefan, moving to Saul’s side of the table and pulling up his chair beside his. “You can tell me anything. Anything. Ever zinse vee started skyping zu months ago, I promised I vould only ever be completely honezt with you, and I hope you can be the zame vay with me too. Vee have no reazon zu hide anything from each other.”

Saul curled his lips upwards into a grateful, hesitant smile. He looked at Stefan appreciatively, admiring the stylish, clean-cut way he had dressed for the occasion: black boots, gray slacks, and a superfluous navy-blue sweater over a high-collared white dress shirt that perfectly complemented his tall, slender frame. In his heart, he still wanted to please him, but his head told him he needed to tell Stefan the truth.

“Of course, Stefan,” he began, taking a deep breath, unable to look him in the eyes. “We’ve only ever been absolutely truthful with one another throughout all our conversations, which is what I’ve loved about them—our absolute honesty with one another…and in that spirit, Ich habe un Geständnis zu machen.”

“I zee dat your German iz improving.”

“I don’t know…maybe a little. I apologize for butchering your beautiful language.”

Stefan laughed. “It’s fine, Saul. Don’t vorry about it. But you can zay it in English. Go further.”

“You mean ‘go ahead’?”

“Oh…yez, yez of course, dank you tausend times.”

“Ok…well…I’m so sorry, Stefan, but this afternoon, on the subway, on my way here to meet you, I saw a woman…”

“Yes? Zo what?”

“And…I was moved.”

“Moved? Vat do you mean ‘moved’?”

Attracted to her.”

Stefan leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to the right; his eyes were expressionless.

“I didn’t think it was possible, Stefan…she got on the train at 181st and got off when I did, at 116th. She had long brown hair and—you know the way people sometimes put their sunglasses on top of their head when they’re not wearing them? I always thought this looked funny, but she was wearing a pair of black sunglasses this way and it looked good on her. She was dressed very simply—a white shirt and black pants. And she was reading a hardcover copy of Amerika.

“Hmm,” Stefan murmured, licking his lips and looking at Saul inquisitively. “Vere you attracted to her, or to what she vas reading?”

“To her, Stefan. To her. Just because I’m writing my thesis on Kafka doesn’t mean I’m—”

“I’m sorry, Saul. I didn’t mean that. I take it back…”

Saul sighed. The seconds of silence that separated their sentences seemed to Saul to last for minutes.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Stefan. I really am. I feel terrible about this. It’s just that…Stefan, have you never been moved by a woman before?”

“No, Saul. Never.”

“You were always sure of yourself?”

“Yes, Saul. Of course. Every zince I vas five years old.”

Saul nodded his head, still unable to look Stefan in the eyes.

“Well…the thing is this, Stefan…I have never been sure. My whole life—twenty-five years—I’ve never been sure. Not until today. Not until I saw her.”

“And now you are sure?” asked Stefan, his left cheek resting gently in his left hand.

“Yes…I knew it from the moment I saw her. My body—it responded to the sight of someone in a way it never had before…I’m sorry, Stefan. So sorry. I just—I mean…even through all this time we’ve been video-chatting, I still wasn’t sure…please forgive me.”

Stefan draped his left arm around Saul and looked him the in eyes.

“Of course I forgive you, Saul. But there’s no need zu apologize. Many people take a long time—some even longer den you—to dizcover who they truly are. I’m just glad that you finally have. And I’m glad if I’ve been able zu help you in any vay.”

“I just feel terrible about it, Stefan. I mean, you’ve come all the way here just to meet me, and I—”

“It’s ok, Saul. Really. It’s ok. Don’t vorry about it. I completely understand.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Stefan—this means everything to me. You have no idea.”

Saul leaned toward him and was about to give him a kiss on the cheek—it was the least he could do, Saul thought, to give Stefan some much-deserved satisfaction for reordering his life and arranging for a summer fellowship in the United States just so that he could meet him in person—but he decided against it. He gave Stefan a quick, friendly hug instead. Stefan reciprocated, gently patting him on the back as he did so.

“Let’s still talk, though,” said Saul, “yes?”

“Yez, of course. I’m sure I vill still zee you around. There iz a talk tonight at Deutsches Haus on Der Prozeß and politics, an exchange between Žižek and two of the CU Germanic Languages Department profezzors. I think you vould really enjoy dis.”

“Thanks,” said Saul, breathing easily and smiling warmly. “I think I would indeed…well, I should be going. I’ll see you later tonight at Deutsches Haus. Aus Wiedersehen!”

“’Auf Wiedersehen,’ you mean.”

“Oh, right—verzieh mich. Thanks a million. Auf Wiedersehen.

 

End

Daniel Ross Goodman is a writer, rabbi, and Ph.D. candidate at the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS) of America in New York, and is studying English & Comparative Literature at Columbia University. A contributor to the Books & Arts section of The Weekly Standard, he has published in numerous academic and popular journals, magazines, and newspapers, including The Wall Street Journal, Tablet, Haaretz, and Harvard Divinity School Bulletin. His short stories have appeared in aadunaThe Cortland ReviewBewildering StoriesCalliope (forthcoming, Fall 2017), Aurora WolfChildren, Churches and Daddies, and The Acentos Review.

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