Blog Archives

Long ago, in the before time, I was sitting in a meeting on casual Friday when the guy leading the meeting noticed my socks.

“Hey, those are some fancy socks.”

“Yeah, they were a gift from a friend.”

“What do the words say? Looks like there’s some words there.”

“Oh, nothing. It’s silly.”

“What does it say? I’m curious.”

I pushed my chair back and dropped my foot on the table.

“It says ‘This meeting is bullshit.’”

General laughter, then an awkward silence.

“Well, being that as it may, we should probably move on to item four on the agenda.”

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Life’s See-Saw, by Susmita Ramani

27/6/2025

3 Comments

Eighty-year-old Iris had lived alone in the same apartment since her post-divorce thirties, but she’d always kept to herself, never even borrowing an egg; she’d just as soon go to the corner bodega.

Such was New York: one could give off an “I’m keeping to myself” vibe, and be understood.

But Iris’s eyesight worsened, until she was blind.

Then the same neighbors were hugging her, bringing food and groceries, reading to her, and involving her in their lives.

To her surprise, she adored it.

Then she met a neighbor’s like-aged father, and remarried.

Such was New York: love was everywhere.

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In a Bar Somewhere to be Avoided, by Gordon Lawrie

27/6/2025

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Jim and Dave are sitting in a bar watching their President address the nation on TV.

“If two stupid ****ing countries wanna bomb **** out of each other, I’m gonna let them. Their stupid ****ing leaders talk nothing but ****. So let them bomb each other to ****, then neither of them will bother me again!! It’s Pax Trumpica….......”

Jim slugs his beer, and says, “Y’know, Dave, that **** speaks our language. Makes me feel a real ****ing American.”

“And proud as ****,” Dave adds.

“Say Dave, any idea where these ****ing countries actually are?”

“They don’t ****ing speak English. Must be part of Mexico.”

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Disintegration, by Don Tassone

27/6/2025

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Emily was about to finish a report when an email notification popped up on her computer screen. She clicked on it and was about to respond when her phone buzzed with a new text. As she was about to reply, her phone pinged, alerting her to a Zoom call in 10 minutes.

Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her whole body was vibrating.

Disintegration is when something is destroyed, broken up or falls apart. It used to be caused by great force and happen to objects. These days, it’s caused by small devices and happens to people.

11 Comments

Fed Up, by Ian Willey

27/6/2025

Roy and Claudia have a son who can’t sit still. But lately he’s been sitting stiller than usual, so they try eating out.

After ordering, the server says, rather sternly, “Your son keeps tapping his feet. If this continues you’ll be denied your appetizers.”

“But he’s sitting still,” says Roy.

“That is not still,” sneers the server.

Liam tries to stop, but it isn’t good enough, so—no appetizers. And because he keeps playing with the straw wrapper they’re denied their entrées and desserts.

“Here’s your bill,” says the server.

Claudia touches the bill; it disintegrates. The server stands still.

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Do Us Part, by R.K. West

27/6/2025

Married people don't need much motive to kill each other. My first body pickup when I worked for the coroner was a man whose wife cured his snoring by slitting his throat. The next year there was a guy who threw his wife off the balcony for putting lettuce on his peanut butter sandwich. My Uncle George’s third wife threw her hairdryer into the tub while George was singing “Hotel California.” The dryer came unplugged and George escaped. Spouses would do well to remember that in the long run, it's the little things that count.

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Humans, by Hayley Igarashi Thomas

27/6/2025

“How long have they been in there?” Theo asks.

God scratches his chin. “Oh, a few millennia.”

“They look...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

God and Theo continue to stare at the Earth, housed in a rectangular vivarium in the corner of the bedroom.

“You get used to all the praying,” God says.

“Really? Even when you’re trying to sleep?”

God shrugs. “It’s nice to feel wanted.”

“And there’s no maintenance at all?"

“Nope. I just let them be."

Theo nods. He drums his fingers on the smooth sides of the vivarium.

“Okay, fine! I’ll take a few billion off you.”

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Green Thumbs, by Mimi Grouse

27/6/2025

For three consecutive years, Craig had won the Best Allotment Trophy and he'd been confident of winning it for at least the next three. That had been until Adam had arrived. Adam, with his unkempt hair and beard, who worked gloveless and shirtless come rain or shine. In four seasons, his patch had produced massive marrows, tremendous tomatoes, luscious lettuces; his cabbages stood in rows like soldiers, while the parade was dominated by white capped cauliflowers.
On prize giving day, Craig handed over the trophy, surprised to see, as he did so, that the other man's thumbs were actually green.

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Rescued, by Virginia Ashberry

27/6/2025

Far from hearing, searchers are calling her name and singing ‘Mary Has a Little Lamb’. Had she heard, Chrissy would have joined in and they would have found her.

The day is warm enough, but another cold night will soon arrive.

Rustling bushes behind her signal the arrival of a large black bear.

Pacing close to her, it’s head swaying, its eyes focus square on Chrissy.

Now, looming over her, the bear opens her mouth wide… then a cascade of blueberries fall at Chrissy’s feet.

She dives into them, feasting happily, then cuddles into the warmth of her protector’s coat.

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Name Calling, by Allison Symes

27/6/2025

‘Now you’re here, stop saying that. Sarah is sensitive about her weight, Mark.’

‘She should diet, Bella.’

‘You never teased me when I was heavy.’

‘Bella, you were ill and then…. That was different. I’ve seen Sarah leave the bakery, and not empty handed, daily for weeks. No wonder there’s an issue. I called her Fatty so often I thought it would make her act.’

‘You know why you are here far too early?’

‘Bella, I can’t recall the accident. Everything was a blur. You know?’

‘Yes. Sarah did act. You didn’t know she has excellent knife skills, did you?’

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The Onion Farmer, by Paul Driscoll

27/6/2025

He thought he’d vanished, ghosted by layers, onion skinned and impenetrable, a backroom whisperer in the murky dark web of TOR.
But the server he launched his code in? Mine. Built it myself, soldered and wired in twilight.
Watched his cursor quiver like a deer in the beam, tracked his clicks like footprints in snow.
He brute forced vaults with his python fingers but I was waiting, swimming through the streams.
Now he stares at a wall in prison mufty, his hands idle. I sent no letter. Just watched the logs scroll. His final packet was poetry. Mine was justice.

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Decisions, Decisions..., by Dawn Knox

27/6/2025

The princess reached into the pond and plucked out a frog. Holding the dripping creature up on her palm, she examined it carefully.
The frog beamed at her. “Greetings, princess. Kiss me and I will be your prince. We will be married and live happily ever after.”
She squinted at him. “Are you, by any chance, an Amazonian Yodelling Frog?”
“I am, indeed.”
“Then prove it by yodelling for me.”
The frog yodelled. “Now kiss me, princess.”
The Princess hesitated. “I’ve always wanted my own prince, but now, I think it might be more exciting to have a yodelling frog.”

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The Apple of his Eye, by Dennis Lee

27/6/2025

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Jeremy’s grandson, Derek, was his favourite. Every Friday, Derek would come at noon and the two would go out for lunch.

But today he didn’t show. After fifteen minutes, the phone rang.

“Grandpa, it’s Derek.”

“I was worried about you. Where are you?”

“The police are holding me in jail for hitting a pedestrian, and they want twelve thousand dollars for bail. Can you help me?”

“Of course.”

The cop came on the line and guided him to wire transfer the money using his computer. Jeremy had almost completed the transaction when the doorbell chimed. “Interruptions!”

“Grandpa, sorry I’m late.”

5 Comments

Living in Grotesque, by John O’Keefe

27/6/2025

There’s a bomb in the middle of the hotel yard.

“Too late to call the Hazardous Device Squad,” the manager tells the guests. “Please throw all your belongings on the top of it.”

I look in my suitcase. Manuscripts, first edition of Mother Courage and Her Children (English translation), a box of cheese crackers, an extra pair of socks. My entire life. Not one piece can be sacrificed.

I eat a handful of crackers, drink a gulp of water and climb back to bed. No need to set the alarm; if an explosion does happen, it’ll wake me up.

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The Visitor, by Sue Clayton

27/6/2025

8 Comments

The dilapidated mansion scrutinised me with evil, mullioned eyes behind grimy eyelids.

FOR SALE read the sign. Open inspection this Saturday, noon to one-o-clock.

“Welcome, visitor,” whispers meandered on the breeze through overgrown weeds as I advanced towards the cracked portico and stepped across the threshold.

A utopian hue swathed the interior. Fresh flowers adorned pedestals in the vestibule. Music and clinking glasses reverberated from a magnificent ballroom.

A glass was pressed into my clammy hand.

I raced towards the heavy oak entrance door. It was sealed, and the evil mullioned eyes forever closed.

“Visitors never leave,” the whispers resumed.

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Sunrise Ocean, by Guy Fletcher

27/6/2025

Troubled thoughts were infecting his mind on a sweltering night so he arose from the soft tomb of his bed and ventured into the darkness.

He arrived at the beach just in time to view a glorious sunset so that the tranquil ocean before his eyes seemed to be on fire, waves lapping gently on the golden sand.

He believed he was the only one there but noticed a swimmer enjoying the peaceful scene to a chorus of seagulls.

He envied the swimmer, yet felt his problems dissipate like froth on the water's edge. This was paradise.

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Into the Wild, by Tony Covatta

27/6/2025

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At son Nat’s urging, Nick finally gave in, planned a week with him on the Appalachian Trail. Nick was sleeping soundly the first night out when co-eds from a nearby college overran the campground, gabbed till dawn.

Nick began favoring a knee that morning but soldiered on all day to a bucolic bivouac. Drifting off to sleep, he heard a bassoon toting hiker arrive about dusk, providing entertainment till 11:30.

Next morning Nat noticed Nick could hardly walk on his gimpy knee. Nick: “Maybe we can do this better next year.”

Nat: “Or take three ibuprofen and suck it up.”

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Propping Up The Pension, by Graeme Copland

27/6/2025

Dressed in his favourite baffies, an old pair of breeks, a string semmit under a red mac, Auld Billy set off on his well-worn path to his local pub.

He used his stick to push the dog mess and discarded fag packets out of his way as he shuffled down the street.

“Aye, aye, Billy. The usual?”

A nod and Billy sat down. He propped his stick against his chair and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, clear postage-stamp size packet containing a white powder. He pushed it under his beer-mat and waited for his first customer.

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The 'Drunken' Teacher, by Sivan Pillai

27/6/2025

I was meeting my ex-classmate after a long time. Nostalgic about the school days, we talked about the past.
His uncle, with whom he stayed, was our English teacher. He used to come to school looking angry and inebriated. The effect was more daunting if he was clean-shaven. No one questioned him as he belonged to a powerful family.
When I asked him about his dead uncle's drinking habit, he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "He never touched the stuff, but didn't contradict the general belief as the frightened students studied his subject well.

4 Comments

Personal Delivery, by Tom Baldwin

27/6/2025

From her window Maggie watched the delivery guy manhandle the heavy carton to Angela’s front door.

Angela opened it, wearing a short robe with apparently nothing underneath, signed for the item and indicated for the driver to take it inside for her.

Initially he refused, then Angela smiled sweetly, twiddled her hair and let a knee poke through the front of her robe. He smiled back, and with an effort he lifted the package and took it indoors.

Maggie grinned ruefully. Twenty years, twenty kilos and four kids ago she might have had the same success. But not nowadays.

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The Sky's the Limit, by Cheryl Dahlstrand

27/6/2025

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“I had my annual check-up,” Dan shared. “Rather what I expected.”

“You look pretty serious,” responded Greg. “How did it go?”

“Overweight- Doc ordered me to set high goals. That inspired me.”

“Seriously, you are what you eat,” observed his friend.

“I gave up bread and butter, increased fruit and veggie intake, and limited red meat. I lost thirty pounds, and my cholesterol dropped twenty points.”

“So, what’s next?’

“I have long range plans,” Dan confided. “I’ve added Milky Way and Mars bars to my daily diet. You see, in a couple of years, I plan on becoming an astronaut.”

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Dream Machine, by Julie Turland

27/6/2025