Once upon a time, a young man stopped in at Leon’s Neon City and asked for work to tide him over until spring. The shop foreman grinned and winked at one of his journeyman crafters. The fellow winked right back.… Continue Reading
“Ernest Hemingway could have been the twentieth century’s greatest writer, but a drunken matador shot him in Pamplona, Spain in 1926. Things would have been a hell of a lot different if he had lived.” Jake limped across the living… Continue Reading
Adrienne had locked herself in the bathroom, again. In the three months we had been dating, this was her seventh deployment of that tactic. She’d go in there to cry, we’d argue through the door, and then everything would be… Continue Reading
Listen to “Saving Nimoy” by Sally York, read by Folly Blaine: [display_podcast] Sally York is one of the last newspaper reporters in Michigan. Her short stories appear in many online literary magazines and print anthologies. Folly Blaine is a writer… Continue Reading
Dear Daddy, You knew I didn’t want you to go, but you left anyway. In my head I said, Please don’t go, but all that came out of my mouth was ‘bye. You sailed away on the wide blue sea,… Continue Reading
Spending a week with Ralph in his country cottage had been a chance to escape the many stresses that had come into my life in London. Top of these was dealing with my fiancé, Rachel, having second thoughts — with… Continue Reading
We were the hurried hope of millions. We, the world builders, who would claim a dead planet and resurrect it. Our home was in the anticipation of those who had sent us. Those who had created us. Those to whom… Continue Reading
Evelyn McCormick knew that her bubble bath was officially ruined when the huge black whale fluke surged up through her bathroom floor, flicking spume and saltwater everywhere. “Darling!” she yelled. Although if you asked her, she would never admit that… Continue Reading
The postman is a creep. He has long arms that do not swing. He holds them out in front of him, bent at the elbows. His fingers dance in the air as he walks, like he is playing an invisible… Continue Reading
“Are you even listening to me?” Abby shouted the words, and they fell on Dave like a rain of arrows. As much as they pierced him, he refrained from telling her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “‘I’m sorry.’” She mocked him.… Continue Reading