By: Joel E. Turner Three jobs should be enough, I mean none of them is what you’d really call a job, not like when I was clocking in at the refractory plant, lifting heavy shit to make bricks, running a…

By: Debraj Bhattacharya I. A Worried DM  The District Magistrate of district Ajeebpur, Mr. Hari Sachdev IAS, looked worried. He had just received a letter that a high-profile delegation from the UN would be visiting his district to see the…

By: Mary Bone Mrs. Euphoria looked at the list of people in town that she had just sent to the editor of her local newspaper. The names on the list were people who believed a malicious rumor that she, Mrs….

By: Jim Bates Dad pointed, “Tyler, take this bag and put those decoys way out by the corn stalks. Not too close to us. We don’t want to spook them.” I dutifully followed his instructions and hiked through the snow,…

By: Patricia Tramble A smoky white mist slowly moves across the lake. The fog is so thick, I could barely see in front of me and if not careful, I could easily walk into a watery grave. The smell in…

By E. J. Bradley I am a foster carer who happened to overhear the end of a conversation about foster caring. “I’d be no good at foster care,” explained my sister-in-law to my wife. “I could never love someone else’s…

By: Mike Sharlow I was watching the Lakers play the Heat Sunday afternoon when the local weather geek interrupted the game to announce a severe storm warning. This clean cut, slightly post pubescent weather guy tried to, in a less…

By: Sterling Warner “Gerry—why do you always seem a couple years younger each time I see you?” “Dunno. Sunscreen? Diet? Skin lotion?” Gerry replied. “Smartass!” “At your service, Martin.” “But you’re sorta right…all my outdoor construction works makes me face…

By Dawn DeBraal Henry Passet tried to move his horse forward. Stubborn as he was his stallion Lightening, stood his ground. Henry pulled out his riding crop, striking the horse several times to get him to move forward. Lightening reared…

By: Christopher Johnson The road wagged back and forth like the tail of a dog, curling around saltboxes and Cape Cods and three-hundred-year-old colonials with rough-hewn beams and low ceilings. Eventually the road passed the Nobscot Boy Scout reservation, west…