I’m overly pleased that you were on time, strangely flattered that the hostess knew you were mine, and so nervously happy I sit on my hands.
Journeys by Lyn G Farrell
The huge sign says ‘Japanese Culture Day.’ An arrow points at an ugly building with square windows like blisters. They are greeted at the door by two smiling, bowing
A Christmas Gift by Vanessa Horn
“Ooohh,” Marie moaned as she pushed open the entrance doors. She slowly bent over, grimacing simultaneously.
Christmas Shopping by Doug Elwell
Slush—the streets and sidewalks were littered with slush. Slush marked the Christmas season in Pinhook the year I was eight. It seemed the sun had fallen over the horizon
Christmas Collage by Raymond Cothern
Hey, Sarah. Just me, kiddo. I hope you’re okay, and I know you didn’t expect a call from me this evening. Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas
The Tacky Tree by Gail Stanton
I was in third grade the year Christmas changed in our house. It wasn’t the first major change in my young life, but it was a memorable one nonetheless.
This Wonderful Thing, Christmas by Wanda Morrow Clevenger
Annual test of stamina is the last two whirlwind weeks before Christmas, and I can get down to the tinsel-wrapped wire most years exhibiting only minuscule
The Rat Child by Grace Andreacchi
Grace Andreacchi
Vuvuzela by Marijke Hillmann
Marijke writes a monthly story for us. She write our segment Stories in Africa, and her stories will some day become a novel. For now please enjoy them, we are honored to have her work on our site.
Charlie Geddes By Ovo Adagha
Charlie, your mother, Teresa Geddes, lived with her father in a small woodland farm in Blankets, just on the outskirts of Oldmeldrum. You have a hazy recollection
Neighborhood Boys by Stephen Black
The neighborhood boys used glue to coat their strings with powdered glass. They’d kitefight from the tops of buildings, jerking and swinging their arms and fists so
Horror Contest Winner: Chinatown Rebecca T. Kaplan
I found a store in Chinatown, full of exquisite pens. On one shelf I noticed a severed human finger. It was swollen, distended, obviously dead a while. I bought it
The Jam She Makes by Mikhail Tank
Lucy was an oddball and a loner. She only trusted one person her whole life, Sam.
Parasite Dead by Barney E. Abrams
“The dead, they’re like parasites. They wait ‘til you’re ill, ‘til you can’t defend yourself. Then they swarm in, like locusts after a bountiful crop. They attach themselves like leaches, feeding off our essence.”
Payback by Vesna McMaster
The whole concept was repulsive. Not the paganism. The freeloading, force-yourself-on-me Mardi Gras license that seems to come with it, that’s what I hate. Kids who would