Category Archives: Fiction

The memo went around the trading floor.  Finally, after threatening, after complaining, after squeezing an added few weeks to his already long vacation allowance, after working remotely two days a week, and after years of discussing his rich bucket list … Continue reading →

Morels! They nearly covered the floor of the forest. So many it was like a carpet, a carpet of fungi. Could there ever be too many? Too much of a good thing. Justin checked his guide for the umpteenth time. … Continue reading →

Every word of this story is true except those which are not. The year is 1977 and I’m at Tufts pondering whether to major in International Affairs (IR), History, or just Poli Sci. Poli Sci was easier of the two, … Continue reading →

The chat box gave a beep, and an icon start to pulse expectantly. It was a universal sign that a response was in the offing. Then a black cloud passed by; I’m Tom, your virtual assistant, and can understand full … Continue reading →

Geoffrey Lewis looked south where the clouds had gone greyer and lower. Nothing. He listened for the helicopter. Maybe with weather coming in, they’d take the big aluminum boat with the warm cuddy cabin. But all he heard were waves … Continue reading →

We all have regrets. Coulda, woulda, shoulda…fill in the blank. It drives some people into insanity. Or into therapy. Or worse. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Shoulda is the worst of the trio. I should have done this, but I did that … Continue reading →

The smiles of the small crowd on the street disappeared faster than the people who hurried away from the boys in the brown outfits. Yelling profanities despite the presence of children who’d been enjoying the man’s show, they kicked his … Continue reading →

Harry made suggestive gestures around the voluptuous crystal ball. Eyes rolled back into his head, he chanted words that could have been Arabic, he even invoked Allah, with a smattering of Hebrew he recalled from a Bar Mitzvah, but most … Continue reading →

(I read recently that decapitated heads do things for a few moments, movements, probably a function of nerves as opposed to consciousness after execution. Right? Well, there have been studies saying that there is some awareness, which is totally gross … Continue reading →

The faded remnants of the 14th Brooklyn marched across a freshly harvested cornfield, the dried stalks stabbing at their legs.  Beetles and aphids, stink bugs and mosquitoes, rose from the rotting husks. And dust. Dust lifted with every step, covering … Continue reading →