There was a man of the Island of Hawaii, whom I shall call Keawe; for the truth is, he still lives, and his name must be kept secret; but the place of his birth was not far from Honaunau, where the bones of Keawe the Great
THE Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs
The Monkey’s Paw I. Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that […]
A Narrow Bridge by Avital Gad-Cykman
A Narrow Bridge by Avital Gad-Cykman I’ve sang this ancient song in moments my mouth started singing on its own, and I listened with interest to learn what would come out of it. “The whole world is nothing but a narrow bridge, a narrow bridge, a narrow bridge.” It’s so narrow, my backyard is bigger. […]
The Cold Sausages in my Neighbourhood by Owain Evans
I stood in the paddling pool. It was the first week of the summer holidays and mum was throwing the party she told dad she wouldn?t. My mum was everywhere, handing out drinks, but my dad was in a gap in the curtains, watching.
The Star by H. G. wells
It was on the first day of the new year that the announcement was made, almost simultaneously from three observatories, that the motion of the planet Neptune, the outermost of all the planets that wheel about the sun
A Dream of Armageddon by H.G. Wells
The man with the white face entered the carriage at Rugby. He moved slowly in spite of the urgency of his porter, and even while he was still on the platform I noted how ill he seemed. He dropped into the corner over against me with a sigh, made an incomplete attempt to arrange his […]
The Rusted Swing Set by Sheila Good
The Rusted Swing Set by Sheila Good She folded the morning newspaper. Her old bones creaked as she stood leaning on the table for balance. Shuffling to the sink, she washed out her coffee cup placing it in the drainer. The sun was bright as she pulled the curtain aside checking out the backyard. The […]
The Birds Weep by Steve Carr
The air is thick with the scent of pine. Rays of purple, blood red and golden yellow are fanned out across the twilight sky. Kyle walks among the trees holding a bouquet of wilting lilies. Lost, he searches for signs of the path he wandered away from.
Hanging by Beaton Galafa
It came one evening when everyone else was sleeping. It crawled in the dark outside, hissing along the night winds that were shaking leaves and branches of the big mango tree standing tall a few footsteps from our house.
Slide by Eli Cranor
PTSD, flashbacks, whatever – it ain’t what you think. I don’t see the boys I shot head’s dripping off sideways like JFK. I don’t see Mitch “Sorcerer” Rodriguez telling me about the Tao Te Ching then pulling his final act of wizardry
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