Note from Jake Rivers, This is my eighth semi-annual "invitational." The current effort consists of stories based on songs by Frank Sinatra, Ol' Blues Eyes. Please read the stories and give feedback to the participating authors. Note from Jake Rivers: This is my eighth semi-annual "invitational." The current effort consists of stories based on songs perfor...
They came on a crisp fall morning. Lesya was in her garden at the time, fingers buried in the dark loam. She was checking for frost. It was getting colder every day, and she still had one last harvest of potatoes and beets to dig up before winter weather set in. Standing, Lesya brushed clumps of earth from her hands and shielded her eyes to watch the Wehrma...
For several days, the whiteout continued. I was learning to live without TV and Internet, though the itch never went away. It was certainly nice to have a vacation and rest with my girls, but that wasn't to say we weren't busy. My driveway was bound to get plowed sooner or later, and when it did, all that snow would be pushed up right in front of my house—if...
Journalists and photographers from all nations flooded the CDC headquarters for the press conference. They packed the lobby from wall to wall, every conversation, regardless of language, was speculative. Normally a conference like this would take place in Washington, but this time the CDC was addressing the world alongside a representative of the WHO. On top...
The following was intended to be a part of “Angel Lost in the Dark – Chapter 7” but when it was finished I found it didn’t really work. Rather than throw it away entirely I decided to post it as a separate story. Angel (an amateur model) is telling Tom (an amateur photographer) the story as they sit around the kitchen table drinking wine. As you can tell...
********* This is all fiction. I mention a few well known places and persons - but it's still all fiction. Not much sex in this continuation of "Change." ********* It has been three years since I came home from Afghanistan the second time. And a lot has changed in my life since I went to Afghanistan the first time. And I have changed a lot as well, in som...
Eric Jones. Waya walked down the stairs slowly, as if thinking hard about something. He came and sat on the couch, offering me his hands. I sat up and took them both. "I have spoken to Walks Slowly," he said, "He has the same opinion as me. I have thought about how, or what, to tell you, but the truth will be best." I looked nervously at my new friends...
Author's note: This story contains a few Australianisms and other minor references to popular culture that may not be entirely clear as to their meaning, but where necessary I've tried to explain them as naturally as possible in the text. For any further explanations a simple internet search will most definitely help the reader. However, I think this secti...
Chapter Twenty-Eight -- The Avenging Stranger Tanélickt and Danka departed from the Great Temple before sunrise on August 6, only four days after Danka first entered the city. The two penitents had very little time to spare if they were going to cross the entire western valley, go into the mountains, cross the pass near Novo Sumy Ris, and navigate the hilly...
It's often said that people have a 'prime' in life. At almost forty, newly divorced, I realized I was past mine. Once the co-captain of my high school basketball team, a second string quarterback, I got a scholarship to college, married the blonde hometown prom queen, taught Sunday School, and worked my way up to Assistant Vice President at the bank. Sounds...