It's Time... The story of two partisans, beginning in southern Italy in WW2 beginning just before the Allied landings. This story could be listed either as Romance or Non Erotic, it isn't a sexy story, in fact it is rather bittersweet. The idea for the story came while the author had the tune Come back to Sorrento rattling around in his mind. Verses of the...
I cannot take it anymore... Everybody is talking about skiing... It so happens that I am very familiar with sports, generally speaking - I love to practice, not just sit in front of a TV and watch, while drinking some beers... Still, in spite of the fact that I've been, so many times, at the mountains, I have never skied. I talk with an office mate, who...
It was a warm Saturday almost 25 years ago when I was waiting to buy a ticket at the automated machine on the Mineola station platform that it seemed the college girl in front of me was having trouble getting it to do what she needed. I offered my help, and she soon had her ticket to New York. I got mine and we chatted while waiting for the train to arrive f...
Richard loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his pinpoint Oxford shirt as the commuter train slowly approached the station. Streaks of yellow and orange foliage flitted by his window. He had no interest. He tugged on his necktie once more. The air in this railcar was always so stale, and he was subjected to it every night. Well, not every night. He occ...
Sweating bullets and ever conscious of her stern academic advisor's disapproving indifference, Tracy moved to the final suggestion on her list of possible topics. "I was thinking I might do my thesis on Slave Yoga," Tracy said. "It's very trendy, and there's a lot of interesting psychological aspects." Tracy's faculty advisor, Dr. Agatha Crush, had dismiss...
Chapter 7: Arthur vs. the Post Arthur groaned as he woke. It took a moment to remember where he was. He got up on his knees and elbows and wiped the soil off his face. His left eye wouldn't open; a crust of dried blood and dirt kept it glued shut. His head throbbed when he sat upright. The light seemed too bright at first; the moon illuminated the camp from...
Our Fun Trip to Six Flags Hi, my name is Denise. My husband Adam sent in his version of this story and told me I should send in my side of the event and it sounded like fun, so here goes. I am currently 23 yrs. old and I have been married 5 yrs. to my old childhood sweetheart named Adam. We grew up together as neighbors in Burlington, Vermont. We played to...
Set in the same world as A Slave Under Contract, but with a different theme. "Do you agree, then, George?" asked Melinda. George stammered and stuttered, trying to get his words out. That this beautiful goddess should have asked him to be her slave for a full year, well, it was more than he could have hoped for. They would go together to the enslavement ce...
During the course of this story reference is made to a play written a few years ago by one Wm. Shakespeare Esq. In fact the perceptive reader will recognise some aspects of the storyline have been 'borrowed' from that work. I make no apology for that, for it might be said; 'if the wheel ain't broke, why build a new one.' I am not the first, and indeed will n...
I awoke the next morning with the surreal racket of three women snoring in my bed. Maya was the closest, cradled in my arms with her furry ears tickling my nose, and Debra and Debbie, mommy and baby girl, spooning, pressed against Maya from the other side. Trying not to move, I stared up at the ceiling and listened to my house creak and grumble. My wife wa...