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Latest Stories

January 05, 2026
General Stories Cody Wilkerson

Faith Valentine

With the day just getting started I’m excited for work. Today we receive our weekly mission at my job. I have been groomed into the family business, the perfect child, growing up excelling at everything. But a rebel at heart. When it comes to the job, no one…
January 05, 2026
Fantasy Stories M. R. Blackmoor

Mermaids And Sirens

...when a storm was coming on, and they anticipated that a ship might sink, they swam before it,and sang most sweetly of the delight to be found beneath the water, begging the seafarers not tobe afraid of coming down below.Hans Christian Anderson, The Little…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Invisible Vampires

Tennessee wheats decided to check out the massive car accident pile up on the main strip. She thought that this kind of stuff has been going on for the past year, constantly. Nothing could explain what happened. This woman did an efficient job at tracking the…
January 05, 2026
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The Contemplative Flower Of Violet

The mellow flower of violet is a fineness of the violet's blossom in the moonlight however the small eternity happens in an enchanting woodland solitude genus Viola is minor but wonderful and subtle so tranquil the last night was when a sylvan dream was…
January 05, 2026
Flash Fiction Nelly Shulman

The King of Paris

Louis valued the dry autumn leaves. The dirty coat, the stained blanket, and the old newspapers kept the heat, but the bed of leaves was the best. It wasn’t so cold anyway for the middle of October. Smoking a cigarette butt from his stash, Louis wondered…
January 05, 2026
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

A Killer’s Confession

Ralph Bozeman was a very big man that stood six foot five and weighed just under three hundred pounds of fat and some muscle. He was a pale, average looking white man with dark eyes and brown hair that he kept clipped short. He owned his own business as an…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Messiah In The Congo

Booming thunder and pouring rain rocked the L.A. night like a hurricane. White lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the dark clouds rolling by. Below the rolling heavens soared long, flowing streams of light that were hovercars in flight,…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murderers Meet Mongrel

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Foxy's Doorbell Destruction

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The 11 Dazzling Verses

The dreameries need Blue Hours. The Blue Hours would need a sun's afterglow. The red sky in the evening longs for a delight. The delight wants a homeland. The native land wanted a literature. The writings are willing to manifest a reality. The epiphany was…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Manslaughter

Felipe was born poor in a shack in Honduras. His family all lived in the same room with a dirt floor and considered themselves lucky to have electricity. But they didn't have indoor plumbing. They had to use an outhouse. They used a communal pump for safe…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Annoyingly Loud Monkey

I decline all noisy, wordy, confused, and personal controversies. Josiah Warren Johnny was an aging Venezuelan red howler (Alouatta seniculus), a fat, medium-sized, male monkey that inhabited the northern edge of the rainforests of tropical South America. His…

That’s the Dude right there

See the dude in the trench?

Yeah, that one.  Long, tan trench coat. Black slacks; hard-soled dress shoes; black, too. My man is wearing a beret.

Every day he's on the block, not doing anything but smoking those nasty fruit-flavored cigars and talking to the street people. He’s always dressed like he's going to work, which I guess is appropriate -- that's his job now: hanging on the corner by the store.

He'd be a great snitch. All the people he hangs with are classic street people. But he also knows everyone and everything that's going on in the neighborhood. And if any stuff went down he'd be the guy to ask.

What strikes me is my man is never sloppy. He even comes back from the cleaners with a load of fresh shirts

"I'll wear the white one Monday, when I'm standing in front of the bodega...Tuesday's blue, for when I'm standing in front of the Chinese restaurant... The plaid one is for the Laundromat... Yellow for when I'm standing in front of the Somali convenience store.... And the pink button-down for casual Friday, when I'm standing in front of that Mexican joint that closed last year...”

He's also the dude who I staggered up to one night, drunk as – you know, and asked who he was. Now I can't remember his name for the life of me.

When I asked him who he was it was because I was interested in who he was.

Also I was really drunk.

Anyway, brother is hanging on to his dignity.

I get it too -- I just think it's interesting.

Fewer and fewer people like that.

There was another old dude I'd run into on the street every now and then; always dressed, even on the hottest day. Bright shirt, loud tie, but he was clean. People would try to crack on him for being dressed up with nowhere to go, but he never cared. All he'd say is that you've got to be sharp if you want to get the women. I never did see him with a woman, but i understand: it was about being who you want to be.

At the end of the day, they all come from the same place: wife dead, or never had one; kid gone, or never had any; all he’s got now is some nice threads, and stories – and he’s happily sharing both.

I don’t know if I should fear it or embrace that one day that old dude might be me.

The End

Joseph P. Williams Jr. and Jamie C. Ruff and just two old dudes who are old friends …

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