Blog Archives

Check Mate, by Linda Jones

28/2/2025

Editor's Choice

It had been a routine check, her hand moving across her breast, less then two minutes for her life to fall apart, the time the black pawn had made its first move. A game of strategy, hard won by masters. At times she almost surrendered her belief that she could ever win. Pushing back with pawn, rook, queen against black pawn, bishop and knight.

No more moves to make, the game coming to an end.

Doors opening, being ushered in. She sits, hands palm downward in her lap. He opens the file, gives her the news.

Check mate.

I'm Sorry, by Malvina Perova

28/2/2025

Virtually every time one of Malvina's stories comes in, I'm stopped in my tracks. I make no secret that I find it quite difficult to make judgements on all the rest that appear that week. On this occasion I've decided to let readers decide.

“How many of you?!” the Russian yells, poking the rifle barrel at his head pushed to the ground. His voice is trembling like a bowstring.
“Two left!” he cries into the damp soil.
The Russian kicks him in the stomach. “Tell me the truth!” The cold steel painfully scratches the skull.
His helmet lies beside him, with a photo of a smiling woman tucked inside.
“I’m telling the truth!” But inside, he cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Sofiya.”
The answer is a gunshot, like a full stop in a sentence. And after that, the silence of an empty page…

Moments That Count, by Eunice Armitage

28/2/2025

15 March 8lb 3oz
Mother and baby doing well

18, 19, 20…
Coming ready or not

120cm/28kg
Perfectly average

1, 2, 3…
I’m giving you to five, young man

T-minus 10, 9, 8…
I’m going to touch the stars as well

60, 59, 58…
New year, new lives. Happy new year!

11.11am on 11 November
We will remember them

15 March
Happy 40th. Life begins today!

8 December 1980
News broke over breakfast

180/120
We’re losing him

1, 2, 3
Stay with me

Weight?
155kg
90,000 mcg esmolol

0/0
Call his wife

10.23am
Time of death

Memory Issues, by Allison Symes

28/2/2025

‘I never forget a face, sir. Names yes, faces no.’

‘I’ve just left the train.’

‘I’ve seen you somewhere else.’

‘I’ve seen people I thought I knew and was wrong.’

‘I’m not.’

‘I’m trying to have my coffee. Go. If you weren’t an old gent, I’d be ruder.’

The glaring old man left the cafe.

The younger man left minutes later.

What rotten luck to run into the old boy who sent me down for seven years for burglaries. Nothing wrong with him. Just as well he didn’t run into the boss. I don’t kill people. Time to move again.

The Vegans, by Eric Delong

28/2/2025

“It’s not like we didn’t have enough problems already,” Frank groused, and checked the magazine on his AR-15 semiautomatic. “Damn Zombies.”

“I know,” Jack agreed. “It’s bad enough we need to patrol the living compound perimeter fence. But now, we have to guard the silos as well.”

“Yah, we know how to deal with regular Zombies. But the new batch are targeting our food stores. Most people believe regular zombies overran a colony of Vegans.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jack answered, staring at the shambling bodies on the other side of the fence, that were moaning “Grains! Grains! Grains!”

Wolf-Kind, by Omeiza Edwards

28/2/2025

The mist falls as the full moon rises, and howls not heard in centuries fill the moors and wooded valleys tonight. Part-man mostly beast, their large, sinewy bodies are built for killing. The rider does not see what makes his horse skittish until too late. The beast leaps high, knocks him screaming off his mount and a powerful bite to the neck silences him forever. His horse flees but is quickly run down by the rest of the pack and set upon. The noise of their savage gorging fills the air. It is the year of the hunt.

Harvest, by S. Anand

28/2/2025

4 Comments

"Is that truck bringing watermelons to our school, teacher?", little Arry wondered aloud.

The truck toiled uphill, raking up dust all along the way. It was scorching summer and the teacher squinted to see past the heat haze. The watermelons were stacked on the cargo bed and they bobbed and weaved with every little bump. Some of them had ribbons around, no, wait, turbans.... Emerald eyes shone on their bald heads, betraying the childlike excitement behind the weather-beaten visages.

"Those aren't watermelons Arry, they are the first kindergarten batch of this school come for reunion after eighty years."

4 Comments

The Eyeglasses Salesman, by Lynn Kozlowski

28/2/2025

2 Comments

The eyeglasses salesmen stands close and stares with pensive smiles at strangers. He can approach to study the face and step back to take-in the whole appearance top to toe. This next young woman is an uncommon beauty--black hair, blue eyes, and flawless white skin. He moves in and out, delighted at his chance to be next to her, face-to-face, and free to think whatever he thinks. Thus, he ogles her unabashedly while doing his job. He inspects and admires her, and he says “The second one may be the best for you. Let’s look at that one again.”

2 Comments

The New Headmaster Wanted to Make the School Great Again, by Rachel Parker

28/2/2025

There was a terrible problem with bullying in the school. The new Headmaster would fix it in a day.

He called all the bullies into his office and made them into Prefects. They shook hands; what strong handshakes they all had! The bullies swaggered out wearing badges and enormous smiles.

Problem solved! The Headmaster realised the problem had been the little kids all along. They’d started it by being small. What did they expect? They’d cost the school a fortune in anti-bullying measures. They’d have to pay it back.

He’d tell the prefects to start collecting. New school, new rules...

The Asset, by Bud Pharo

28/2/2025

The board chairman roared at the CEO for hiring his nephew and giving him a substantial signing bonus.

"But, sir, I read your text twice and wondered if it was the same person I interviewed, who frankly, wasn’t that impressive. You said he's a true asset!"

"No, I never said that! When I heard you were interviewing him, I was incensed. I immediately dictated a text to head off a potentially disastrous hire."

"Ah… that's not what your text said."

The chairman looked at his phone. "Goddamn autocorrect! What it should have said is that he's a true asshat!"

Never Never Land, by William P Adams

28/2/2025

2 Comments

The statuary figures at Never Never Land came to life one night, becoming flesh and blood.
The Three Bears and The Big Bad Wolf gobbled up The Three Little Pigs and most of Bo Peep’s flock. Goldilocks, Bo, and Little Red Riding Hood scurried to safety inside the Shoe with The Old Woman and her brood.
Jack and Jill, running swiftly together, barely made it to Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater’s well-fortified gourd, though his wife bristled at the intrusion.
Everything was in place when the caretaker arrived the following day, but he noticed the missing animals.
“Damned kids”, he muttered.

2 Comments

The Presence, by Sue Clayton

28/2/2025

I could sense a presence, someone, or something, was stalking me and Bunty on our ‘pee and poo’ walk. Shrubs rustled in the still night air.

“What is it, girl,” she sniffed the still night air.

The presence was right behind me, but Bunty just wagged her tail at the shadowy outlines, more alert than she had been for days.

She was off her food and I was worried about her.

I’d already farewelled four other dogs. That night I said goodbye to my fifth.

Bunty's ghost siblings had been waiting for her.

Credit Monitoring, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

28/2/2025

5 Comments

I had an unsettling dream. I inserted my credit card into the reader. There was a puff of smoke and it melted.

Possibly, that’s not just a dream. Were you buying drugs?

What difference would it make?

When illegal drugs are charged, AI card chips know. It’s the newest iteration of metadata.

That’s pretty stupid. For those purchases, I always use cash -untraceable.

Not for long. Large bills are being recalled and exchanged. All replacements contain an AI thread. The threads are so sophisticated that they even include video surveillance.

Dreams can come true. It’s only a matter of time.

5 Comments

The Hottest Books in Town, by Remmie Thomas

28/2/2025

3 Comments

“We’re having a special book drive,” said Mrs Leveret, the school librarian, showing which books to watch out for. “There’s a hundred-dollar reward per book.”

Kyle Eckley’s eyes bugged.

“Can I visit grandpa this weekend?” he innocently asked when he got home.

Grandpa appreciated the visit, although Kyle seemed only interested in his book collection.

“Can I borrow these two? Kyle asked.

Next week, at the town square, Kyle collected two hundred dollars after tossing grandpa’s atlas and a Western, titled Gulf of Mexico, onto a book bonfire.

“For another hundred dollars,” said Mrs Leveret, “who gave you those books?”

3 Comments

Inside the Darkest Recesses of an Editor's Mind, by Gordon Lawrie

28/2/2025

A story comes in – from a newcomer. It’s unpleasant, using some words you’d prefer the children didn’t. It could have been copied and pasted from some other document, because there are some spaces and carriage returns in strange places.

What’s more, the Top Box isn’t quite correct: the capitals are wrong.

It’s nasty, horrible, but because they’re new I feel I ought to be generous. Perhaps they’ve left their VPN on, or it’s been published previously elsewhere… but no, careful checks reveal nothing amiss there.

As a last resort I check the wordcount – 101 words! Yes!

I’m off the hook.

Never Forget, by Dawn Knox

28/2/2025

The old lady holds the battered violin case up to a school hall full of disinterested teenage eyes. “This once saved my life,” she says.
That draws their attention. Presumably, they’d expected her to play, but she hasn’t opened the case since leaving the concentration camp after liberation.
Her voice wavers, but her words are confident. She will tell them how she was chosen to play in the camp orchestra rather than being sent to the gas chamber, just because she held a violin case.
Her words are chosen carefully, but the message is there. Please, young people, never forget.

Turning the Table, by Sivan Pillai

28/2/2025

"The biggest fish we caught this year," they congratulated one another, looking at me lying in the boat, entangled in the net, speculating what I could fetch at the market.
They were heading towards the shore.
I lay helpless, angry at their trespassing. They had no business interfering with our lives for money as we, the sea animals, never did so with theirs.
Nothing more to lose, I jumped into the sea, overturning the boat.
I saw them struggling against the high waves, swimming in all directions, fighting for their lives.
Let them have a taste of their medicine.

Margot, by Frances Jackson

28/2/2025

1 Comment

After the taping, some of us celebrate. Margot split the second her mic went dark. No one told her about the afters. She wouldn’t have come.

When we lived together, we had the party spot. Old-ass bungalow. Family of cats underneath. We’d pass out three to a bed, two on the floor, legs dangling.

Hungover at the drive-thru: hash brown, sausage biscuit, strawberry smoothie. Vanilla iced coffee. Large Sprite. Vans on the dash.

“If you don’t have at least three drinks, you’re doing it wrong,” I yell. Someone tips their glass. They don’t get it.

Maybe I’ll get a kitten.

1 Comment

Where Have all the Flowers Gone, by Christa Loughrey

28/2/2025

5 Comments

Thursday night.

He’d never seen such a bunch of bland, prissy offerings. Not a single amusing allegory among them. No witty metaphor for modern times; no hilarious storyline, veiled or otherwise, relating to the salacious shenanigans going on in the corridors of power. This week’s headlines had been particularly juicy; brimming with creative potential – but his best writers appeared to have deserted him.

Deciding to be his own editor’s choice this week, he added his delicious story to the mix.

Friday morning.

Alerted by a Bot, the thought police came knocking at his door.

5 Comments

Flower Power, by Mary K. Curran

28/2/2025

The wealthy and influential deceased had been shipped across country to his hometown for burial just like the best-selling author, famous doctor, clever lawyer and powerful politician whom Derek, assistant mortician, and his boss had prepared.

Every obituary mentioned “Miss Dahlia Devon, a special teacher” who encouraged each of the men to display grace under pressure, cultivate inner strength and totally commit to their chosen path.

Derek's phone photos showed exactly how these men had been marked for success. He would go into the city tomorrow and get a tattoo on his left butt cheek of a giant purple dahlia.

It Wasn’t Supposed to Happen, by Louise Arnott

28/2/2025

10 Comments

James’ tears puddled on his pillow as he burrowed into their bed once shared.

“We were each other’s ‘together forever.’ Lovers for the better part of thirty years, deeply entwined from the first moment, nothing but death could separate us. You said you would never leave, had nowhere else to be.

Circumstances necessitated our living a secret life. That I regret.

I must secretly bear my grief. That I regret.

I face the future alone. That I regret.

The societal obligations which prevented us from living together guilt free. That I regret.

Our forbidden love. That I do not regret.

10 Comments

Clear-Cut, by Don Tassone

28/2/2025

No sooner had the new landlord taken over the forest when he began clear-cutting.

“Too many trees,” he said.

Everyone knew some trimming was needed, but no one expected a wholesale removal.

So many had depended on the trees. For some, they offered protection. For others, a home. For everyone, they’d been part of the natural landscape, and their absence was jarring.

Almost overnight, the national forest became a wasteland. Without roots, the soil washed away. Without shade, the earth baked. Without water vapor, drought struck.

The vast tract lay barren until, one day, the landlord’s lease expired.

The Toilet Paper Fairy, by N.C. Smith

28/2/2025

This morning, the cleaning supply closet door was open, again, lights on. Have I been working too hard? I always close it, otherwise my dog Max, will overindulge on kibble at night.
Next morning the almost empty bag of toilet paper rolls is in the kitchen, next to the coffee maker. I need to visit the store, asap. But work is too hectic.
The following morning, the empty bag of dog treats is on the kitchen counter, too. Am I sleepwalking?
“You are daft,” says the woman, leaning to the closet door. “You need to go shopping today!”

Hot On The Trail, by Simon Nadel

28/2/2025

Morning. The woods. Leaves and twigs crackle under foot. Birds caterwaul gibberish. Someone’s been on this path recently. I can smell it.

Guy behind me stares at the little rectangle in his hand. Try living in the real world.

Nose to the ground. So close now. Something skitters by. No time for distractions. A newly fallen branch. Bingo. Mystery solved. I know you were here. I know what you did. I lift a back leg. Spot marked. Okay, still more work to do. I turn around. Jackass still mesmerized by the small rectangle. Better not have forgotten the treats.

Married Bliss, by Tom Baldwin

28/2/2025

The waitress looked wistfully at the elderly couple in the coffee shop. They were holding hands across the table, smiling and chatting. Sometimes he’d whisper something and they would laugh.

The waitress brought them their coffee and said, ‘You two seem so happy together. Can I ask how long you’ve been married?’

‘Fifty-two years,’ said the man proudly.

The waitress walked back to the counter, hoping she would find someone to make her that happy for so long.

‘Fifty-two years,’ repeated the man. ‘But not to each other,’ he murmured to his partner. And they both laughed again.

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