Two rats met outside the drain hole. One rat said to the other, “Ratty, do you know something?” “What?” asked Ratty. “People of Nepal have decided to change everything old into something new. Isn’t that wonderful?” “Why, that’s great!” said Ratty. “I too was getting tired of the same old things to eat and the […]

The best thing about critical journalism is that you get to shed light on all the world issues without solving a single one. A cynical attitude towards life will come in handy in this respect. These were thoughts that went through my mind the other day when I understood that my four year old nephew […]

aaa Two politicians hit each on the head with a hammer and became mutually dependent on each other in order to maintain their ideologies. From that moment on their fate was sealed. Any statement that challenged this perception would now count as a betrayal in which a whole world view with its respective electorate would […]

by Rabindranath Tagore (adapted from a translation posted at YouthAffairZ, an online Magazine) am a police detective. I have only managed to accumulate two assets in life–my wife and my career. Earlier, I used to live with my extended family. However, since my wife was not shown proper respect, I quarreled with my elder brother […]

by J.H. Rosny jeune published in El Paso Herald, November 02, 1910, an anonymous translation have known what hatred means ever since I was a child. At the age when other children play in the sunshine, I roamed about the country alone crying with rage. Years of misery count double and the soul awakens early […]

“Rashōmon” by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (translated by René Malenfant) It happened one evening. A lowly servant was under Rashōmon Gate, waiting for the rain to stop. Under the broad gate, there was no one but him. On one of the large round pillars whose red paint was peeling off in places, there was only a solitary […]

by J.-H. Rosny published in The Chickasha Daily Express, December 21, 1900 e were strolling along the shore of the bellowing sea. The waves were magnificent. They advanced in caravans, crested with foam, singing crystal songs, they came with great cries and falling upon the rocks left long trails of snow. Rapid, irritable, angry, numberless, […]

“Tribal Mark” by Iroakazi Ifeanyi here I come from, scars are just enough to tell if you are good enough, especially when they appear on your face. They are not just the regular scars from mosquito bites or accidental injuries. They are deliberate scars that you carry from cradle to grave. So they come first […]

“Karen’s Christmas” by Amalie Skram Translated by Michael Henrik Wynn At one of the steamship ports in Kristiania there was some years ago a gray wooden structure with a flat roof, no chimney, just over two and a half yards long and slightly shorter in width. At both end walls there was a small window, […]

“Where?” by Stein Riverton, published in the collection Himmel og Hav, 1927. Translated by Michael Henrik Wynn r. Elling Winter is one of those restless vagrant individuals whom you can encounter anywhere on this earth. I chanced upon him on several occasions, most recently in the north of Italy. There is a certain arrogance about […]

by Juza Unno (Translated by J.D. Wisgo) “Mysterious Spacial Rift” was first published in Science: Hopes & Fears [Volume 1: Selected Stories]: Juza Unno: The Father of Japanese Science Fiction, available on Amazon here. y friend Hachiro Tomoeda is a peculiar fellow. Sharing with you a few dreams he’s told me about is the quickest […]

by J.-H. Rosny published and translated by Santa Fe daily New Mexican. September 22, 1894. y first marriage, said Jacques Ferveuse, was of but a few hours’ duration and did not break my betrothal to her who afterward became my true wife. It was nevertheless a legal wedding and without doubt the best action of […]

An anonymous translation of the story “Le Hanneton” by J.-H. Rosny. The original was published in La Revue De Paris Et De Saint-Petersbourg, and this translation appeared in The Omaha Daily Bee, 30. September 1888. burst of shrill laughter rang through the court-yard. A girl’s face looked from the barred window of a cell. It […]

By Margie Harris, Racketeer Stories, February 1931 (Courtesy of John Locke. His collection of her stories is available from Amazon) It’s a hell of a thing to be waiting for the rubber hose in your B.V.D.’s and suddenly see yourself looking into your cell at you, with blood all over your face! horty Breen, get-away […]

published  in All-Story Weekly September 7, 1918 Francis Stevens (real name Gertrude Barrows Bennett, 1884–1948) t was upon the waterfront that I first met her, in one of the shabby little tea shops frequented by able sailoresses of the poorer type. The uptown, glittering resorts of the Lady Aviators’ Union were not for such as […]

published in All-Story Weekly, September 21, 1918 by Francis Stevens (real name Gertrude Barrows Bennett, 1884–1948) t was after nine o’clock when the bell rang, and descending to the dimly lighted hall I opened the front door, at first on the chain to be sure of my visitor. Seeing, as I had hoped, the face of […]

By Aleister Crowley atricia Fleming threw the reins to a groom, and ran up the steps into the great house, her thin lips white with rage. Lord Eyre followed her heavily. ‘I’ll be down in half an hour,’ she laughed merrily, ‘tell Dawson to bring you a drink!’ Then she went straight through the house, […]

By Margie Harris, Mobs magazine 1930(Courtesy of John Locke. His collection of her stories is available from Amazon) A mystery night club queen, with a look of death in her eyes and a little black book filled with names . . . a steadily shorter list! eattle, Queen City of the Northwest, gleaming like a […]

n the year 1841, there resided, at different points in the State of Illinois, three brothers by the name of Trailor. Their Christian names were William, Henry and Archibald. Archibald resided at Springfield, then as now the seat of Government of the State. He was a sober, retiring, and industrious man, of about thirty years […]

by Jacob M. Appel o celebrate her sixtieth birthday—she is now older than her parents when they died—my mother asks to take a daytrip. She has okayed it with the shrinks, she says. Dr. Fradkin agrees a twelve-hour pass will do her good. “His first name’s Monty. Monty Fradkin. He’s quite a good looking young […]