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Latest Stories

October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

The Moon Is A Wanderer Too

The rain came down like broken glass and the city was a wound, bleeding light and exhaust and the smell of food frying in oil that’s been used too many times. I was walking nowhere, which is the only place I ever go, and the streets were full of saints and…
October 17, 2025
Mystery Stories Brittany Szekely

The House On Wren Street

Notes: A mother rebuilding her life after domestic violence uncovers a chilling secret in her new home Isla didn’t notice the house was watching her until the second week. At first, it was just creaks in the floorboards, the way the hallway light flickered…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

Pee Girl Gets The Milk

He met her on a Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday that feels like a leftover Monday, stale and gray and hungover from the weekend’s sins. Her name was Lita, or maybe Rita, or maybe she just said that to keep things simple. She had a cigarette halo, a ring of smoke…
October 17, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Lie To Me More

La vida es una mentira; Miénteme más,Que me hace tu maldad feliz.(Life is a lie; Lie to me more,For your wickedness makes me happy.)Armando Domínguez Borras, “Miénteme” (bolero) Out of a habit ingrained over fifty-odd years of hard work, Timmy McFarlane got up…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Unseen Listener Of Moscow

It was 11:55 p.m. when he stepped out of Moscow’s Lefortovo Metro Station. His whole body ached; his legs trembled. His eyes were sleepy. He felt surrounded by unknown souls, all in a hurry to reach their destinations. He looked at the disappearing faces for a…
October 17, 2025
General Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Rearranging The Brain Furniture

She called herself Lark, though her name was probably something dull like Emily or Claire. She was nineteen, maybe twenty, with a face that looked like it had been drawn in charcoal, smudged eyes, a mouth that never quite closed, and hair that hung like wet…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

FCAWF

She called herself Moth and said she liked the way they flew into flames without flinching. Her real name was Emily, but that was buried under layers of eyeliner, cigarette burns, and a voice that could cut glass. She was thirty, somewhat immature, vindictive…
October 17, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Kashif Imdad

Femtoria

In a dystopian future, the world had transformed into a society that was unrecognisable to those who had lived in the previous century. The nation of Femtoria stood as a beacon of prosperity, A female supremacist regime, had risen to power, enforcing a strict…
September 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

Half an Hour to Fourteen

Last night she lay on her bed with a curly-haired doll close to her chest. She was looking at the clock hanging over the door. Only half an hour was left —her life’s digit would turn from thirteen to fourteen, a change that felt like a heavy blow to the…
September 27, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

Till We Meet Again

“Would you like more coffee?”The server in the orange apron lowered the pot, but Cath muttered, “No, thank you.”Her voice trembled, and the server busied herself with the next table. Outside the window, fog enveloped Waterloo Bridge. The morning was quiet,…
September 23, 2025
Flash Fiction Leroy B. Vaughn

Another Farewell To Arms Reunion

We were sitting in a little café in Wickenburg Arizona eating lunch when my wife looked at me and said, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to this reunion after you told all of your buddies that there was not a chance in hell that you would go.” “I know…
September 23, 2025
General Stories William Kitcher

A Political Solution

The Rt. Honorable Leader/Head of Council/First Governor/Chief Minister/Premier/President/Chancellor/First Minister/Party Secretary-General entered his office, and looked out the open window. It was a beautiful sunny cool day, and the cherry blossoms shone in…

In 1950, Carl Bower, a thirty five year-old wildcatter, stopped drilling for oil at noon and he and his helpers took a lunch break. Before he drove his old truck home, Mr. Smithers, the banker drove up. “So, Carl, any luck?” Mr. Smithers said smirking.

“You can see I haven’t struck oil, Smithers. What do you want?”

“I just want to remind you that your note comes due on Friday. Will you have the money?”

“No, I won’t have the money. Of course, you could give me an extension.”

“An extension? You’re joking aren’t you?  What banker would give you an extension on your loan? You’re never going to strike oil, and you know it. An extension? Hah. That’s very funny. You’re a funny man. Well, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. My engineer says there’s oil here. Too bad you’re not going to see any of it,” he said, laughed out loud, got in his car and drove away.

Carl got in his truck and drove home. He went in his house and was greeted by Mrs. Morse, his house keeper. “Lunch is ready, Carl. Wash your hands and sit down and I’ll give you a bowl of hot soup.” his house keeper said as she put a bowl of soup on the table. “Any luck today?”

“Yeah, all bad. A few drops of water, and a visit from Mr. Smithers from the bank. He can’t wait for Friday when my note comes due. If I can’t pay, I’ll lose everything, and then he’ll bring in his crew.  I know there’s oil there, and he knows there’s oil there and he wants it. He has up-to-date, heavy drilling equipment and an engineer, so he’s gonna find the oil.

After eating lunch, Carl drove his rickety pickup back to the well. “Okay, guys let’s keep drilling and praying. We’ve got one week. If we don’t strike oil, we’ll all be out of work,” he said, and the men started drilling and watching for a gusher with hopeful eyes.

“Boss, our drilling equipment is too old. We’re never gonna see a gusher,” Jack said.

“I know, Jack. Unfortunately, I don’t have any more money, and I can’t get another loan, so we have to make do with what we got.”

They drilled until the last day without realizing their dream. “Well, tomorrow, Smithers takes over. He’ll come in with the latest equipment and he’ll find oil, our oil. I’ll try to sell our rig, and I’ll split the money I got left with you and my house keeper, and that will be it for money.  When Mr. Smithers comes in with his engineer and equipment, they’ll need guys like you, so try to get work with them. I wish you luck,” he said, and shook hands with everybody.

“What are you gonna do, Carl?

“Well, tomorrow I’m gonna watch Smithers and his crew, and I’m gonna hope he strikes water instead of oil. That’s what I’m gonna do. I welcome company, if you have nothing to do tomorrow,” he said, and his men promised to join him.

Thanks guys,” he said, drove home and gave Mrs. Morse the bad news.

“I’m so sorry, Carl. If only Mr. Smithers would give you more time.”

“Greed never misses an opportunity to make money. Mr. Smithers doesn’t care how many people get in the way of him making money. He doesn’t care how many people he hurts.”

“Carl, I believe in Karma. I believe he will pay for his greed. He will pay for causing pain.”

“Anyway, here’s your share of the money that’s left,” he said and gave her several bills.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Well, me and the boys are gonna to go to the site tomorrow to see Smithers drill for oil and hope he gets water. After that, I don’t know. You won’t have any trouble getting a job. Someone like you is always in demand.”

That night, about midnight, the earth around Carl’s well site caved in. After the dust cleared, hairy arms pulled hairy creatures out of the hole. They moved around as though looking for something, and went back into the ground before dawn.

Carl and his men arrived at the site at 7:00 that morning and parked their trucks far enough away so they would be able to see Smithers activities but not be trespassing.  “Hey boss, look at our site. The land around the place where we drilled caved in. You could drive a car in the hole.”

“I guess we got away from there just in time. Look. Here come Smithers and his crew,” Carl said.

Smithers and his team of workers and one engineer arrived at 7:15 and set up drilling equipment.

“Mr. Smithers, we should begin drilling over there,” he said holding a chart and pointing to a spot twenty five yards from where Carl had drilled.

“Whatever you say, Hank. You’re the expert. Tell the men what to do. I’ll watch the black gold pour out of the ground from here.”

The equipment was set up and drilling began. Late that day, Hank approached Mr. Smithers. “Sir, we’re making good progress. I calculate that we’ll strike oil in two days.”

“Okay, Hank. I can wait two days. Uh, I wonder if the men would work late today, maybe ‘til 9 or 10. Ask them and tell them I’ll pay them double.”

“Okay, I’ll ask them,” he said and went to the men. A Few moments later, he returned to Mr. Smithers. “They’ll work late, Mr. Smithers.”

“Great.  I’ll stay with them,” Smithers said.

“Well boys, it’s late. Time to go home to supper,” Carl said, and he and his men left.

That night, two, hairy creatures climbed out of the hole at Carl’s site. They stood unseen, seemed to look toward Smithers, and then ran to him, grabbed his arms and dragged him screaming toward the hole. “Help me. Someone help me,” Smithers screamed, but all the workers could do was stare in horror as the creatures pulled him screaming for help into the hole where they disappeared. After several moments, only the sounds of bones crunching, tearing sounds, and Smithers screaming were heard.  As though waking from a bad dream, Smithers’ team ran to their cars and sped away.

The next morning, Carl drove to the site to see what was going on. “Jeez, where is everybody? The drilling equipment’s here, but there isn’t anybody drilling.” He drove around the area looking for Smithers, but he couldn’t find anyone. “Well, can’t let Smithers’ drilling equipment just lie around,” he said, hurried to gather his crew, and even though he couldn’t find Smithers or his crew, he did, eventually, find oil.

 

The End

 

While teaching speech and English at a community college, Mr. Greenblatt wrote short stories and plays, one of which won a reading at Smith College.  After retiring, he wrote short stories and novellas.  Several of his stories were published in on-line magazines, and others were published in print anthologies.

 

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