Bruno was on his deathbed. He’d lived a good long life, closing in on eighty-four years old. The Salerno family, from south Philly, gathered around: Mom, dad, son, and daughter. Mom could barely contain herself. She placed her hand on her loved ones’ brow, sobbing uncontrollably. Bruno turned his head towards her. He struggled to lift it up, inching closer, as if to tell her something, maybe for the last time. His mouth o...

Fishing with Miguel By DiVitto KellyTwo men approached the dock, both looking suspicious and twitchy. If not for the forty thousand dollars stashed in their avocado green vinyl suitcase, they could be perceived as vagrants. The taller man leading the way had receding silver blond hair and sported a two week-old peppered beard. The other, a past his prime weightlifting type, must have had a prolonged encounter with a tanni...

Part Two: Night of the Clippies A half hour later, Monroe was alert, bandaged and bruised, but sitting upright in the kitchen chair drinking a tall glass of orange juice. He borrowed the phone and called Sheriff Taylor at his home. “Hey boss. My apologies for calling you so late but –“ “No problem.” Monroe could tell he just woke him up. “What’s news?” “I’m up at the Baldwin residence. We’ve got ourselves a killer clothes...

It was late April. Harold Bailey, stiletto attack survivor, woke up with that queasy feeling in his innards. For months, he’d contemplated spilling the truth to his wife about that fateful Halloween Eve, but knowing how inconceivable his encounter was with the satanic shoes, he could not divulge a word. “No,” he said to himself gazing at the bathroom mirror after a brisk tooth brushing. “I can’t risk losing my job, or cos...

You want to know the real truth about the Island of Misfit Toys? You know the place – the one featuring cowboys riding ostriches, squirt guns that shoot preserves (raspberry or boysenberry I believe), and wooden trains, in particular, a caboose with square wheels -- those toys. The conventional wisdom was these oddities were deported from the grips of children simply because of a few snafus at the factory. But the real re...

“Are you elfing nuts? You can’t go on strike!” hollered Santa. Yes, there were times when the ‘Big Guy’ bellowed, or even screamed. Like the time Blitzen accidently stepped on his big toe – the one with the bulging bunion, or when Mrs. Claus accidently spilled a mug of hot chocolate on his lap. “We’re in prime toy-making season fellas.” Santa Claus pleaded; he’d never experienced something like this before. “Don’t they li...

The late October night sky was clear, full of stars with a gentle push of wind coming from the east. Margaret Braeburn, thoroughly entrenched in her sixties and sporting all the vivacious curves of a fire hydrant, strode outside carrying a huge laundry basket full of bed sheets. According to Margie, a nickname used only by her closest friends, the night air always seemed to make them smell fresher. Her late husband, Ralph...

The annual Saint Joseph Church carnival was winding down. It had been three and nine-tenths days of fun, but on Sunday evening, eleven-year-old Thomas Leary was running out of time. In between boarding a slew of nausea-inducing rides and devouring funnel cake the size of Frisbees, it was time to win something other than another stuffed animal. Thomas wanted to win a goldfish, but not just any goldfish. There was one in pa...

Mr. Hal Bender was always told he had a wire loose somewhere in that mathematically gifted, bad comb-over head of his. His fellow bean counters at the accounting firm of Gort, Kitt, and Servo voted Hal most likely to mate with a computer. And if Mr. Bender ever did get married, he’d somehow manage to meet the national household population average of two-point five-four. One spring morning in late April, the middle-aged ge...

“Oh my God Tommy, pull over, pull over!” Maria Casanova squawked, grabbing her husband’s rock-solid shoulder. He slammed on the brakes, making an abrupt right-hand turn up a shabby, weed-filtered gravel driveway. Tommy parked the car under a soaring, lifeless tree where a rotted out birdhouse dangled from a heavy branch. The dented black mailbox stood with the name Rey finger-painted in bold white letters. “I gotta have t...

It wasn’t exactly a festive Saturday evening for Ben and Ellen Garner. He needed to pick up medicine for his wife, who was suffering from a nasty cough, fever, and runny nose. Ben wasn’t feeling so hot either. The couple, originally from sticky, humid South Florida, recently moved to the cool, rural confines of Wakefield, North Carolina, an hour’s drive east of Asheville. Apparently all that fresh mountain air wasn’t agre...

Will Kennedy had an hour to kill before dinner. His family was on their vacation in Sanibel Island, a small seaside town on the southwest coast of Florida. They’ve been coming to Brody’s Bayside Cottages for the past twelve years, enjoying the natural sights and sounds of an unspoiled coastal community. Will, turning thirteen in a month, was eager to try out his new mountain bike, an early birthday present from his parent...

Richard Bailey dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it. He trembled as he reached for his cell phone, dialing the appropriate three-digit number before dropping it on the tile floor; luckily it didn’t break. “Come, come on,” he screamed. “Answer the phone! Hello?” “Chatham Police, what is your emergency?” said the female voice, cool and firm. “I’m getting attacked by a pair of stiletto heels!” “I’m...

By DiVitto Kelly “I’m famished," proclaimed Bob Unger, eager to chow down with his wife and two children as they patiently waited to be seated at the restaurant. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” replied the spunky brunette hostess, overhearing the hefty man wearing blue jeans and red checkered flannel shirt. “This way, sir.” The Home Body Buffet was a favorite dining jaunt for the Unger’s, feasting at the popular r...