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Latest Stories

November 18, 2025
Mystery Stories Kanwar P. S. Plaha

When The Time Is Right

Ferguson, with his thinning hair, a crooked nose, and a vipe in his mouth that gave him a sleuth-y look, was staring at the holographic, virtual screen. Seven poker-faced suspects stared back at him. His assignment was simple. Find the time-travelling…
November 18, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

The Report On Carter

We do not name ourselves. We do not speak. We do not feel. We record. Protocol 9 was initiated on Sol-3, Sector 7, following anomalous emotional emissions from a carbon-based bipedal entity designated Carter. Subject exhibited high concentrations of grief,…
November 18, 2025
Horror Stories Thomas Wetzel

The Janitor And The Machine

The first time I used the machine nothing really happened at first. I just stepped out of the pod a minute or so after the lights shut down and everything seemed the same. I mean, I didn’t really know what to expect. I was just curious. But when I woke up the…
November 18, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

A Bug In Your Mental Health

The first one appeared on a Tuesday. Gregory Hume had just microwaved a frozen shepherd’s pie and was halfway through a rerun of “Quantum Leap” when he saw it—skittering across the linoleum like a twitchy shadow. He blinked, paused the show, and leaned…
November 18, 2025
Crime Stories Daryl Rothman

Sebastian Marlow

"Mr. Marlow? I thought it was you. Wow. So excited to meet you--well, not really meet you, I mean you're obviously having dinner here with your friends and I'm just some random person who's interrupted you, but just to see you and get a chance to introduce…
November 18, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

The Algorithm Of Grace

Elias woke to the smell of lavender and the sound of birdsong. The sun filtered through lace curtains, casting golden veins across the floor. His apartment was immaculate. The coffee brewed itself. The newsfeed whispered affirmations: You are safe. You are…
November 18, 2025
General Stories Syed Hassan Askari

God In The Loudspeaker

He lived in a small four-marla house — a thousand square feet — beside the transformer in the back lane of the mosque. Fifteen years had passed since he had settled in this village. Everyone respectfully called him Maulvi Sahib. In winter, his voice echoed…
November 18, 2025
Fantasy Stories Frank Talaber

We Are Lovers Of The Ethereal

I staggered from the house party into the backyard more drunk or stoned than I cared to admit needing fresh air. A growl broke the rhythmic pounding of music. I stared into the red eyes of the massive dog, chained in place. I’d had enough dealings with…
November 18, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Deleting Her Gently

She kissed him goodbye knowing he wouldn't remember her tomorrow. The kiss lingered longer than it should have, a soft press of lips against fading certainty. The man before her—Tom August—smiled, unaware of the weight behind her touch. His eyes, still bright…
November 18, 2025
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Exonerated Evil

My dad died in the LA ghetto when I was only 14. That's also the night I killed five gang members and damned my soul. My dad was a disabled vet. He lost his left leg in Iraq. He lived with chronic pain from his wounds and he fought his addiction to…
November 18, 2025
Science Fiction Stories L Christopher Hennessy

The Bone Archive

The cathedral had no roof. Its spires jutted like broken ribs into a sky choked with ash. Vines of rusted fiber-optic cable hung from shattered stained glass, twitching in the wind like dying nerves. Beneath the altar, hidden behind a false panel of oxidized…
November 18, 2025
Horror Stories James D. Brewer

The Strange Tale Of Pismire And Isos

It began like any other day. As his fellow workers secured their loads and assumed their position in the column, Pismire noted that his teammate, Isos, was struggling to maintain his grip as they held the supplies above them. Isos was always slow and a bit…

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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