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A bright and frosty winter morning in Queens, New York. Maria, a petite, mousy, middle-aged woman (and native of Queens) with straw-like, unwashed,...

I drove home and proceeded to get drunk. Initially I began to feel a bit better, not much, but a little. I realized how asinine it was to go to...

The Opposite Effect We all of us fantasize, I think. I believe that it’s a natural and normal thing to wish for things to be better, even impossibly...

Sebastian gazed irritably from the verandah into the sun filled garden. As usual a zillion thoughts had jostled aside his attempts to attain a state...

Valdark, the Great Barbarian Sorceror, has called Sorceror Aribor back to work. He has been sent on a mission with other Black Sorcerors to bring terror to Bricas in Shalirion. He has gone into the city in disguise to assess the best means of terror. He merges with crowds and finds himself involved in a festival of the Goddess, and learns much about the ways of Shalirion. His purpose is tested by temptation and new understanding. This is Section 2 of this Part.

A Troubled Runaway - Short Story by Paul McCann It was the summer of 1969 and all around me houses burned . The illegal paramilitary were armed and...

The fire cracking in the middle of the Victorian furniture filled room was the only source of light as my fingers traced the familiar keys. Familiar...

The soul is a silent witness..

extract fron pt 1: These are the hands of your father and Grandfather and his father’s fathers. Hands that worked wood, hammered red hot steel into horse shoes, swung an axe or held the reigns of plough horses. Hard-working honest hands. You haven’t earned the right to wear hands that look like these.