The soft tinkle of bells could be heard long before he arrived. But the joyful sound didn’t belong in that alley in New Orleans. It might give hope where none existed in a place where monsters fed. Her husky female voice chided the unexpected intruder. “You scared off my friends,” before the slender dark figure stepped out of the alley’s black depths. The man with the winter-white beard responded in his deep, gentle tone....

“Oh dear, we've got to get more gas for the car.” I regretted ever making this sentence that very night, despite having little gas that could get us home without meeting the face of death in the odd hours of Wednesday at exactly 12:03 PM. A soon-to-be mother, who is my wife was startled when I diverted to a freeway in search of gas. She kicked against it and pleaded with me to get us home with the little gas, but I was so...

One You wipe condensation from the truck window, peering into the dripping grey dawn of Whisper Creek Woods. The radio crackles static, then a local announcer’s too-cheerful voice: *"...and remember, folks, if you see Mr. Aris Thorne, 78, grey cardigan, likely confused, call the hotline immediately."* Beside you, your sister, Bethany, shivers, not from cold. "He wouldn’t just wander off, Cal," she murmurs, knuckles white...

Talk to me A word from you Lights up a fire On this winter day.

John had everything: a good income, status, and a life of extravagance. A celebrated pharmacist turned businessman, he lived in a world where nothing came cheap. He scoffed at meals below $20, considering them an insult to his refined palate. _________________________________________________________________________________________ One night, to celebrate securing a new contract, John and his business partner, Hans, resolv...

Her fingers twitched against the marble counter in the kitchen. Jeanette, a 47-year-old raptured endowed member of the neighborhood's debauched coven of decadent insomniacs, and bowling widows. Stirring the fondue, calling the kettle black as the cheese bubbled over her makeshift altar (the oven). She was speaking to someone—or something—in the pantry, a can of mushroom soup—perhaps, the autographed picture of Wayne Newto...

I like my boy In all ways and manners I could go on writing for days But the trait I love more He has got "I won't hurt you" face.

One Charlie crouches behind the splintered remains of a supply crate, the acrid tang of burnt plastic sharp in the cool air. Night was coming, proclaimed by a blinding orange sun piercing an immense, jagged, fragmented wall of clouds in the west -- the direction they'd be going to cover their escape. Very soon, darkness would spread across the sky, their agreed upon time to mark their escape, onto their way to freedom. Bo...

What scares you? Existence; Existence is scary.

Introduction Welcome to a bright and beautiful morning- one that seems to lead us toward a new and unusual kind of story. It has always crossed my mind that a single story can be seen through different eyes: some may view it as a simple passing tale, while others may see it as a complete novel. Whether it is read by a casual reader or examined by a professional critic, what truly matters in the end is the enjoyment found...

I’m not sure how we found ourselves here. I look at the walls of this familiar fortress, but no longer recognise it as home. The walls used to be warm and inviting. Pretty pastels adorned them. Cosy rugs covered the floor. Soft pillows and blankets shrouded the welcoming, safe bed. The sound of carefree chatter used to ring through the room. Giggles and laughter bouncing like balls between us. It’s intermittent now, a cau...

It was a photograph that was the initial spark for George Dunsley to take a trip of over two-hundred miles to visit his old friend. A black and white photo of him with Noodle, real name Charles Oldroyd, taken in 1959, leaning against the back of an army jeep in a British military base, part of the twelfth signal regiment, stationed out in Cyprus, where they had a joint operation with supporters of the Cyprian presidential...

(One) The first contestant adjusts the sweatband on his wrist, the rough fabric scratching against his skin, and squints up at the towering wall of playing cards looming before him. Each card, easily twice his height and thick as a door, displays the stark black clubs suit against its pristine white back. "Alright, fresh meat," booms a voice crackling through the overhead speakers, dripping with forced enthusiasm, "Welcom...

This is a very short but very true story that occurred as my wife and I were preparing to leave for Vegas for our two-week vacation. She managed to find seats on the first non-stop flight, but not over the wings. I really enjoy being seated in the emergency exit rows because they are a little wider, so they provide me with ample legroom. Seated in the row I wanted was an elderly couple; they smiled at me, and I smiled bac...

I like your imagination I always want to find an excuse To talk to you And when I do I always smile.