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Latest Stories

December 09, 2018
Mystery Stories Wally Smith

Body of Evidence

Crime Scene Tours Ltd. had built their business, some would say, on the basis of appealing to people’s morbid curiosity for grisly acts of murder, and Liz and Colin Stevenson therefore had no qualms at all about conducting tours around the scenes of the most…
December 02, 2018
General Stories John L. Yelavich

Aesthetic Shock

Allie is delicate and gentle, waif-like in her presence. Her luminescent smile frames an image that seems so lighthearted. A sense of reality cannot disguise my enamored, whimsical feelings. I rhapsodize her essence in my affectionate mind excursions. She…
December 02, 2018
Fantasy Stories Vidal Martinez

The Purpose of Life

The front door slowly creaks open just as I reach to touch it with my cold, stiff hand. I stand still, hesitant, wanting to walk away, but finally I peek into the house, and through the darkness of the old Victorian home is a shadow of a flickering light from…
December 02, 2018
Fantasy Stories Pat Tyrer

It's All Relative

Before I get started talking about what I did, and why I did, what I did, I need to explain that Harold was no prize. He retired from John Deere because he couldn’t get along with the guy who worked next to him on the line. Not the supervisor, mind you, but…
December 02, 2018
Crime Stories J.D.Plummer

What Goes Around Comes Around

It was 12:45AM on a Tuesday. The old TV in the corner was playing some idiotic sitcom rerun. The ball game had gone into extra innings, but had basically ended a half hour before. There was a couple sitting at the table in the corner, having wandered in…
December 01, 2018
Crime Stories Nicholas Tomsko

Special Delivery

“BE THERE IN 5 MINUTES”...Tammy hit the SEND button and tossed the cell phone. It made a thud as it bounced off of the passenger seat. She hated the feeling of things in her pockets and never used a purse. Cruising the highway during a mild September…
December 01, 2018
Fantasy Stories Marie Anderson


After the meeting, Leo hurried back to his office and filled his briefcase and pockets with everything that mattered. His company mug brimmed with cold coffee. He poured the coffee over his PC’s keyboard, then threw the mug at a framed portrait mounted on the…
December 01, 2018
Romance Stories James Ross


‘Park here,’ Leo said, ‘We’re early and I’d like to sit in the sunshine for a while.’ Michael parked the car in one of the empty bays and went to purchase a ticket. When he got back to the car Leo was standing by the door grinning broadly. 'See!' he said.…
December 01, 2018
Mystery Stories Virginia Revel

The Shape I'm In

“Good morning, Mr. McCord.” “Good morning Dr. Porter,” I say, inclining my head slightly in his direction. His answering nod pays tribute to my quiet self-possession. I show him no hostility, but I do not pretend he is my friend. There will be no heartiness…
December 01, 2018
General Stories Jesse McKinnell

Hi, My Name is Mark

The drug store stretched out in front of Mark like a fun house, dizzying in its array of colors and textures and smells. Racks filled with Halloween candy, masks and plastic pumpkins sat in front, requiring shoppers to battle through their compulsions before…
December 01, 2018
General Stories Roger Ley


“It’s in here,” said Martin as he unlocked the door of the old, dilapidated wooden shed. “My dad lets me use this as a garage.” The shed was sited on the edge of the golf course that his father’s family owned. They went inside. It didn’t smell too bad, and it…
December 01, 2018
Science Fiction Stories Matt King

In Formation

Honking, the geese fly overhead in a giant V as the sky reddens in the late September dawn. Tralley watches them for a moment before continuing to unload the pickup truck outside the transmission tower high on the hill. Rucker fixating on his smartphone in…



My hands are shaking, I cannot stop them and I am barely breathing, because never in my life have I felt more beautiful than in this moment, right here. Enveloped in white lace and tulle, I carefully run my fingertips along the tiny seams in the bodice of my dress. The princess staring back at me from the mirror smiles, and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I have not even started down the aisle yet. I truly hope everyone is right when they say this is going to be the happiest day of my life. I pull up the sweetheart top a bit, adjusting my bust to look just right. I take a deep breath, nervousness rising up within me. Am I making a mistake? My hand immediately goes to my mother’s locket around my neck. The locket itself is silver with tiny blue and white flowers on the front and it dangles from a chain I bought six years ago at a local jeweler’s going out of business sale. There is nothing in the locket, the small metal clip that was supposed to hold in a picture or a lock of hair has long since broken. I have thought about getting it fixed, and Bruce, the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle, has offered to get it fixed many times, but I don’t think it will ever happen.

I was nine years old when my grandmother died. Her house was old and not in the best part of town, but she always had something baking. Cookies, pies, or cakes were always “just about to pop out of the oven, so why don’t you stay for a bit” and she always had enough to share. I remember seeing the locket swinging from her neck as she forcibly mixed the cookie dough by hand with a large wooden spoon, or as she pressed down the rolling pin to flatten out a pie crust. I would sit opposite her at the small island in the bright yellow kitchen and she would tell me stories about princesses and dragons. She told me that her locket was given to her by a fairy godmother, and that it had given her the strength to escape her dragon all by herself. At the time I did not realize she was talking about my grandfather. Grandmother said the locket would become my mother’s, and then mine. She talked about my mother becoming strong enough to run from her dragon, but little did she know that two years after she died, my mother’s dragon would run himself out of town.

I was eleven years old when my father left. I cried and cried, waiting for daddy to come home. My brother told me that daddy was never coming home, that love is a joke and only the stupid believe in it. I remember my grandmother’s locket swinging around Mommy’s neck as she fell after Daddy hit her, and the chain breaking as he pulled her close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, screaming that she was the biggest mistake of his life. Mommy picked up the locket and told him to leave if he wanted to, but know that if he did, he better not ever come crawling back. I can still see the imprint of the flowers on her palm from how hard she was clutching the locket when she finally let go of it three hours later. She never got the chance to wear the locket again after that. We went to the doctor to get her nose set and the doctor saw something on the scans, we should do some more tests. The locket got put in her jewelry box and stayed there through the two rounds chemo. I almost buried it with her. Almost.

I am twenty six years old, gazing at this locket hanging from my own neck, the history of it weighing me down. I carry these women with me now, and forever more. My grandmother never got her happily ever after because by the time she left my grandfather she had a daughter to think of, and my mother’s life was cut short before she got a happy ending. When I walk down this aisle, I will be bringing them with me. I will share this with them for all they gave me. I release the locket, sure in my decision to trust in love and myself. One more deep breath, and as the wedding march begins I can almost feel them with me as I walk to meet my prince, not a dragon in sight.


Bio: My name is Sydney Sheldrick. I am a middle child of five, all brothers, from the middle of America. I am currently studying American Literature at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. My hobbies include reading, movies, and spending time with my pug, Peanut.


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