Blog Archives

The End of a Life, by Sivan Pillai

28/10/2022

The villages bordering the forest had been living in fear of the tiger, declared a man-eater. Farmers had already demanded its elimination after losing some of their livestock.
The authorities had issued orders to kill or capture it.
I was perched on a tree with two guns, one with lethal bullets and the other with tranquillisers.
After a long wait, I heard it advancing through bushes cautiously. It looked old and ailing in the open and walked with difficulty. If captured, its days in the hospital would be short.
I lifted my gun with bullets.

The Covered Bridge, by Scott Bogart

28/10/2022

Editor's Choice

Nestled deep within a valley on a dirt road, straddling a babbling creek, was the proud historical landmark. The weathered wooden boards, a testament to its longevity. Beautiful by day, against the picturesque backdrop of fall foliage, until nightfall brought a sinister chill, reminiscent of Ichabod’s flaming jack-o-lantern. As a seasoned policeman, I was not immune to feelings of dread and the remembrance of childhood fears. Stopping short of the entrance, the squad car headlamps showed into its throat and illuminated its ribs, before diluting into darkness. With every hair pricked, I held my breath and stomped on the gas.

The Split, by Lisa Williams

28/10/2022

Me and Paula were great together. I got the card details, I could play people, got them practically handing me their wallets. She’d call them straight after pretending to be from the bank’s fraud squad, this blocked the line so they couldn’t report anything. Meanwhile I’d go and spend, spend, spend. Expensive stuff we listed immediately on eBay. We were the perfect partnership, divided everything equally.
No one could see what would come next, someone conned me Nan, honestly it split me in two. I couldn’t do it after then.
Then Paula left. Apparently she loved the money, not me.

One Ghoulish Night, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

28/10/2022

“Ouch!” Wendy squealed, noticing a trickle of red. As she bandaged her finger, the doorbell rang.

“How sweet!” she fluttered, seeing an angel. More cute Halloween outfits presented themselves for treats.

Older revellers arrived later. They looked scarier. One demanded extra chocolates.

“Have the rest,” Wendy shivered. “I’m closing down.”

Back to the solitude of home, Wendy made tea. Is that the doorbell she heard?

She raced to turn on the outside light. No one. She opened the door to survey the porch. A dark presence pounced in front of her.

Dracula stepped in, closing the solid door behind him.

White Rabbit, White Rabbit, White Rabbit, by T.L. Tomljanovic

28/10/2022

My brother Jack is muttering “white rabbit” under his breath, but he keeps choking on the smoke. I regret bringing him. Weekends are for friends, fires, and getting baked in the woods.

I’m making out with my boyfriend under a starless sky to a cacophony of laughter and music when I realize Jack is gone. While bae gets another beer, I slip into the bush.

I follow a wet smacking sound and Jack’s muttering. He's holding a hare black wet with blood, still twitching, but he can't wish this away. I pick up a rock and finish it for him.

Emergency, by Tom Baldwin

28/10/2022

‘Emergency Corporation. Which service please?’

‘Ambulance. Chest pains. Can’t breathe.’

‘According to my screen you only have the standard and not the priority service. There will be a delay in connecting you while we play these messages from our sponsors.’

‘Want. Upgrade.’

‘Yes, sir. Give me your card details, listen to these recorded terms and conditions, then press hash if you agree to them.’

‘Please. Hurry.’

‘I’m sorry, that card has insufficient funds. Connecting you on the standard service now. Please hold until these messages have finished.’

‘Ambulances For You. What is the nature of the emergency? Hello, caller? Hello?’

Breakfast at the Hotel De Los Condenados, by Bill Cox

28/10/2022

It was a most peculiar morning. He woke with a splitting headache, feeling somewhat out of sorts after the excesses of the night before. Strangely, after some investigation, it seemed that he was now the only one in the hotel, the rest of the guests and staff having vanished overnight. Even his mobile had lost its signal. Somewhat at a loss, he decided to serve himself up some breakfast. With coffee in hand, he made his way to the veranda. He sat down and began to read the morning paper, only to be confronted with his own obituary…

A Google Search, by Sankar Chatterjee

28/10/2022

It was Diwali (“festival of lights”) throughout India. In some regions, it was also the night of worshiping the powerful Goddess Kali. Our world presently in turmoil, Kamal Sen, an IT-expert sought Goddesses’ directive for world peace.

First, he searched Google how to communicate with her. The top result appeared: “With a notebook and pen nearby, close your eyes and summon Goddess inwardly. Ask her energy be present in you.
Ask “Let me speak to Kali.” At this point, drop inside, and notice what is invoked in you by this inquiry.”

Alas! Nobody taught Google’s AI admitting “I don’t know.”

Hunger, the Enemy, by Sankar Chatterjee

21/10/2022

On a gorgeous autumn day with leaves changing colors, sky dazzling, Jim was walking his dog Arthur on a mountain-trail, near Moab, Utah. Suddenly, Arthur began barking, unleashed himself, and began running toward a hidden cave. Following Arthur, Jim entered the dark cave.

Jim turned on his smartphone’s flash-light, focusing the beam at different locations. At one corner, he spotted several ancient human skeletons, lying next to each other with their hunting tools. He reasoned their deaths due to lack of food, unable to hunt in a severe winter.

Worldwide, thousands still die of starvation, even on a sunny day.

The Mutant Seed: A Dinner Tale, by Kendra Judge

21/10/2022

A foul wind breathes across the land, wilting pumpkin ivy. Tiny insects curl and die. They fear the mutant seed.
Sprouting life seeks the sun. Evil tendrils reach. Spreading leaves erupt, an orange fruit is born. The monstrous pumpkin shudders, glows, expands in bursts. A maw cracks across its ghoulish, gourd-ish skin.
Halloween approaches, and alas, the tale of Mighty Jack winds down.
Farmer’s wife steals in close, to strike as swift as lightning. A thrash of vines, a flash of silver…
Competition’s fierce, to win the prize this year. Judges taste the glowing orange dish.
Pumpkin pie’s the winner!

Some Strange Sort of Apology, by John Cooper

21/10/2022

After…

You said it had all been a mistake and that you were sorry for what had happened. But how do I know you really meant it?

Then…

You said you had changed, that you had seen the error of your ways and that that should suffice. But how can I really know?

Next…

You said it would all come right in the end and that I shouldn’t worry. But why should I think that it will?

Finally…

You said that there was no alternative for us now but to keep going on together. But why should I believe you?

Mig-Relief, by Jenny Logan

21/10/2022

Rachel came home from work at lunchtime; the beginnings of a migraine threatening.

“How odd,” she thought, pulling into the driveway, “what’s Richard’s car doing here? He never eats lunch at home.”

She quietly closed her car door and went around the back of the house. The noises she heard through the open window left her in no doubt as to what—but not whom—Richard was doing there.

“Oh, dear God, not again.” Her stomach lurched and she remembered that acid would erode car paint.

Grimacing, she wiped her mouth. Her long-term problem she’d deal with another time.

The Perfect Cut, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

21/10/2022

Mary gasped. Her attempts at making even slices from a loaf of bread failed again.

Mother had mastered the task. Father showed precision in carving a roast.

“Cut against the grain,” he would say. “Softer to chew.”

“Grain?” Mary pondered cluelessly.

She had a new project at hand. One requiring her sense of design. Yet, she fretted. Would the roundness be round enough? The straightness turn out straight?

She raised an arm over her subject. Her hand lowered, plunging a chef’s knife through thick orange skin.

Who will check for perfection in a pumpkin’s face on a dark Halloween night?

Coming in for a Landing, by Richard Kirk

21/10/2022

Their eyes met. Battle was about to commence. The tools of war were laid out before them, the disputed territory all that separated civility and chaos. Eyes narrowed, you could cut the tension with a knife, and a blunt one at that. The advancing force had one shot, one chance for success. Any misfires would mean untold clean-up. Marshalling their nerve, it was now or never.

Daddy gripped the spoon with a determined set to his jaw.

‘Open wide for the aeroplane,’ he said, with only the faintest tremor in his voice.

All is fair in love, war, and din-dins.

The Look, by JM Subban

21/10/2022

I notice her stare every day: judging, bemused, disappointed. Take your pick. I wonder if she understands my suffering - the overwhelming fear of failure, the constant pressure to accede to the demands of her daughter, the total loss of self. There are days I can’t even breathe.

Today, I’m tired. A series of sleepless nights have eroded my strength and willpower. I procrastinate as usual until I find her eyes on me again.

Not today, Gran. I need your help, not your judgement.

I reach across my desk for her photo frame and place it face down. Sorry, Gran.

Preparation, by Tom Baldwin

21/10/2022

It was the day of the job interview that could change my life. I had studied the company in detail and rehearsed answers to any questions they may throw at me.

My new suit, crisp shirt and carefully-chosen tie would make that all-important great first impression. I was fully prepared.

On the train I sat opposite a very attractive girl. She smiled at me, several times, and I smiled back.

At the terminus I was gratified when she lingered on the platform, still smiling. She leaned towards me and murmured, ‘You have odd socks on.’

The Sign Language, by Kate Figurska

21/10/2022

I struggled to find my words that day despite my love for chatting.
“I’m afraid I can’t speak English today,” I dropped my hand down.
“What language would suit you?” it’s been a polite remark.
“Sign language,” I thought I can’t lose with that.
He showed me the first thing. I laughed brushing the joke aside. The conversation was not over yet, I could tell by his moving hands.
I shook my head gently, “I actually don’t understand...”
But he kept on showing off.
“Well, that’s just mean.”
“Oh,” he stopped, “so you do understand a sign language.”

Wild Man, by Rashna Walton

21/10/2022

I've seen the wild man. Once, during a blizzard, he jumped down from the rocks in front of me, clutching a binbag before loping away down a gully, leaving spillage from the split sack in his wake. Instinctively his animal body knows how to make tummo, fire in the belly, whereas I as a determined young monk had to learn the skill. It takes equanimity. I practised alone in a cave in the hills, building an altar from stones. Someone donated a pair of designer trainers.
Then the Rinpoche of Qinghai took me on in order to dry his robes.

A Not-So-Elegant Cook, by Linda Allison

21/10/2022

“You’re a messy cook,” her guest remarks.

She surveys the shards of onion scattered across her kitchen counter, the litter of black pepper that missed its mark, a garlic press lying spent, potholders covered in a dusty veil of flour, a mushroom carton relieved of contents, puckered lemon halves, jars of dried basil and rosemary sticky with fingerprints, a half bottle of wine waiting quietly in the corner.

She pulls from the stove a skillet of golden chicken thinly crusted, swimming in a glistening glaze of mushrooms, artichokes, capers, and wine.

“So . . . what’s your point?” she asks.

Lunch, by Virginia Ashberry

21/10/2022

I’m having friends over for lunch next week.

It’s a new group of ladies from a book club I just joined. We’re all in our seventies, but still hale and hearty.

However:

Joyce is vegan, Susie’s just vegetarian, Diane is gluten-free, Mary is keto and Vera is still on that Atkins diet thingy,
Esther keeps kosher, so Kursheed will be okay too, and with Diwali starting on Monday, I’m not sure if Indira has any requirements.

Looks like I will need to do a lot of additional reading this week, specifically on modern entertaining.

Buffet style it will be.

Love the Lyrics, by Brian Mackinney

21/10/2022

Do wah….she has noticed me but will she speak to me?

Do wah….will she accept my polite request for a dance on the spring loaded floor?

Do wah diddy….she has agreed and in my arms. I have three minutes, perhaps six, to use my bluff and bluster to persuade her to have another dance later.

Do wah diddy diddy…. she’s giggling at my jokes and appears impressed with my inflated life story. Diddy diddy dum…. this could be my lucky night.

Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do…. she’s saved the last dance for me.

Do wah.

Reverse Psychology, by Sandra James

21/10/2022

This must be the worst book ever published. I found nothing worth reading on any of its pages. I sincerely hope readers don’t waste money purchasing it.

Janelle read the review of her book and smiled. She closed her laptop, ran a bath, relaxed for an hour. She picked flowers from her garden and arranged them in a vase. She went for a walk. She called her sister. ‘Coffee at Gino’s?’

They ordered and sat in the sun. She checked her phone, and smiled.

‘Thanks for that terrible review,’ she grinned. ‘It worked. I just sold twenty books on Amazon.’

Curves Ahead, by Susmita Ramani

21/10/2022

The bunnies look at me, eyes glinting, ears straight up, noses twitching, mouths ajar, pixels vibrating. “Help us, Jane!”

Wizard Malevello waves his wand. “Adorable vermin, prepare to be carrots!”

“Stop, fiend!” I shout.

The Wizard sneers under his scraggly beard, but can’t harm me because of my protective shield.

A bunny whispers, “Maybe the Wizard needs a girlfriend?”

I gasp. I’ve been in the game since its release. How has this never occurred to me?

The Wizard turns the bunnies into carrots.

I message the game designer.

Hours later, the bunnies are reset. And the voluptuous Enchantress Mordania appears.

The Best Times, by Alyce Clark

21/10/2022

“How did you know it was true love?” she asks, admiring how her grandparents look at each other.

“I enjoy his company,” her grandmother says, smiling,

“That’s the secret?”

“Truth be told, love is in the time you spend together. The best times happened when we were dirt poor- rich in love, fun, friendship and simply having a good time… Playing Uno, Monopoly, eating tuna sandwiches- because we were too broke to go out. Some of the best days of my life,” she says contentedly.

“If you can have fun with someone when you have nothing, that’s everything. True Love.”

Hijinks, by Sue Clayton

21/10/2022

“Sit on the crapper,” a fuzz-faced teenager dares his mate to perch on the historic latrine.

“I’m Henry the Eighth, I am,” Perch Boy croons on the ‘throne’ before they hightail it down the corridor, stumbling across a roped-off bedchamber.

“Do you think he did all six of ‘em on it?” Fuzz Boy admires the towering four-poster.

“It would‘ve broke if he humped ‘em too hard,” Perch Boy straddles the rope. “Bet it don’t bounce, like a proper bed.”

“Gotcha,” irate officialdom rings out.

Hampton Court hijinks curtailed, the boys shriek louder than any Tudor queen learning of her fate.

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