Small, frightened. A little fox-boy clung to his father. Small silver tears swept down his freckled cheeks as he looked up at the stern, older fox-man.
“Benjamin”, the older Alopeid patted his son’s head. He felt there to be no need for the boy to cry.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 215 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 215
In the history of hockey, there's never been a guy like Derian Mutzki. As the Global Hockey League's leading scorer for nine consecutive seasons, he had every reason to be one cocky son of a bitch. But never Mutzki - at heart, he was just a smalltown kid done good. Yes, he was married to a voluptuous blonde ex-model, but so were the rest of us - at least those of us who were tired of the weeknight flings at airport motels with the local pimple-faced groupie.
The point is, from the start, we knew Mutzki was cut from a different cloth. The precision, the finesse, the charisma - he had it all. As for me, I was one of your typical league grunts - the kind of shmo whose hockey card seemed to turn up in triplets in every pack you ever bought as a kid. "Sure, he isn't great with a puck," they said when they brought me up as a tenth round draft pick with the Pittsburgh Polars, "but shit, he's big." And that was my ticket - bigness. Anyone tried to take out Mutzki with a cheap slash or a sock in the head, and they'd have to answer to me. All in all, a great job, if you don't mind the false dentures.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 13 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 2
It was a school day and Jamie was playing with his friends in the playground.
Soon the bell rang and the children hurried into class.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 21 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 13
I have been a successful advertisement executive for twenty years, and a damn good one at that. I can sweet talk with the best of them, bring competitors to their knees with one lift of my brow, and my smile can seal a deal faster than the destruction of a California earth quake. I am a marketing genius, but where does one go when riding on the crest of a wave for twenty years? Crash is inevitable. And crash I did.
I knew the price that I paid daily for choosing my career over anything else in my life. Family was secondary; clients reigned supreme. There was never a choice between my daughter’s ballet recital and dinner with a consumer. The buyer won every time. I never saw a single ballet performance until the day when the job that I had dedicated my life to bit me in the ass. A dog should never bite the hand that feeds him, but my company must not have received the memo on such idealistic idioms. Who was I kidding? I knew that once I became dispensable I would be discarded like a steaming pile of compost. No one wants the stench of failure to ruin the fresh linen smell of success.
Category: Short story / Cumulative Earnings: $5.00 Rank: 12 / Month's Earnings: $0.00 Rank: 47
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