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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…

 

 

Once upon a time, yo, I was droppin’ these mad beats. I mean, my jams were killer, man. It was Tommy Finkelstein’s bar mitzvah, my first paying gig, and the kids loved me! I was catching the eyes of some of the hot mamas in the crowd too, I kid you not. Mrs. Finkelstein was totally picking up what I was putting down.

An hour into the party, right as I was hitting my stride, melding this sweet Prince song into a Michael Jackson one with this sick wizzy wizzy wick, Tommy’s brother Joel comes tearing by with a cup in his hand. The narbo. He trips, and the cup flies toward me. I just know there’s about to be Crystal Pepsi all over my turntable. I was buggin.’ I had to mow my Aunt Ruth’s lawn for two summers to earn enough money for my turntable.

But to my relief, the cup was only filled with dried beans. Weird, right? They flew onto my turntable and started vibrating, twittering and trembling to the bass coming from my sick speakers. So I thought, hey man, no problem. I’ll just scratch the turntable a bit and shake them off.

But yo, man, these beans were magic. I swear, no lie! They started jumping and jamming to my beats. Two of them must’ve been Michael Jackson fans; they were moonwalking. Others started turning my EQ knobs to pull out the bass. I gotta admit, despite not having ears, these beans’ mixing was killer. The kids were amped. It was schweet!

Mrs. Finklestein, though, needed a chill pill; she started yelling at Joel for getting into his father’s experiments. Joel whined that he’d only wanted to show the beans to Lily Oppenheimer, this girl he’s crushing on. Mrs. F wasn’t having it; she yelled for her husband. I’s afraid Mr. F. would be fuming to the max, so I quickly played a Bangles song to calm him down. Mr. F. thinks Susanna Hoff’s wicked hot.

But when Mr. F came in, he just shook his head like he was bummed and said, ‘Too late. The specimens have imprinted on the DJ.’ I didn’t know what he meant, but whatevs. By this point, me and the beans had become BFFs. So I quickly said that I’d be happy to take them as payment. A Numark 1775 mixer is so bunk compared to magic beans, ya know? The Finkelsteins agreed, so now the beans and I are in serious rehearsals.

These beans and me, yo? We’re going to be famous!

So when you see me spinning my jams at the most happenin’ clubs in New York City, remember that you heard my name here first: Melvin Koszlawski, DJ Bean Master Def.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Zoe Powell is a steampunk and urban fantasy writer who lives in Chicago.

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