More than even gifts, Abby Crosby loved wrapped-up boxes. Loved the anticipation. It was the same with Christmas Day. Having grown up in a large city, she enjoyed the small-town feeling in the air on the days leading up to… Continue Reading
What I am hoping is that he will hit her, just once, because honestly I think that’s what it would take for her to call it off. But now I have the problem of what to do with the ring.… Continue Reading
The cleric approached from the southeast, his step firm despite his apparent age. The staff he carried seemed more war cudgel than cane. One step more, begged the knight silently, eyes locked to the cleric’s every movement. His hand tightened… Continue Reading
“Sophie, honey, see how pretty you are in your new dress.” The daughter studies her reflection in the mirror. Her mother is smiling but she just stands there, thinking. “Isn’t it pretty? It makes you look like a princess —… Continue Reading
Listen to “Speed Demon and Clockwork Dancer” by JR Hume, read by Folly Blaine: [display_podcast] JR Hume is an old Montana farm boy who writes science fiction, a little fantasy, some weird detective tales, an occasional poem, and oddball stories… Continue Reading
Tom was sitting near the artificial Christmas tree untangling lights. As Adele squeezed by, her elbow hit a glass ornament that fell and exploded, red glass spread in an imperfect circle. This was their first Christmas in the new house… Continue Reading
editorial by Camille Gooderham Campbell From the Editors Thank you all for your patience as we transitioned to our new web host and server over the past week. We’re still smoothing out a few little hiccups, so please bear with… Continue Reading
Aurora wandered the rain-swept streets to escape the weak tea, forced laughs and happy memories after the funeral. Searing pain spread from her heart into her arms and made her eyes water. People with umbrellas or plastic bags tied over… Continue Reading
It’s a Sunday morning and I’m in the kitchen stirring up pancake batter, watching little brown ants march along the wall under the windowsill. I’m thinking about herding the ants onto a piece of paper, mixing them into the batter… Continue Reading
“Are you cold?” he inquired suspiciously. “Of course not,” she answered. “I’m wearing my big fluffy robe and slippers.” “They’re ratty,” he sniffed. “They’re comfy,” she corrected him. It was too much to bear. Here he had this lovely young… Continue Reading