By the way, if you haven't visited Short Story America, you really ought to. It is a solid on-line publisher of short stories, deeply committed to the American short story as an art form. I've had some terrific conversations with publisher Tim Johnston (who happens to share my great appreciation for the work of Ray Bradbury.) His love for the short story is positively contagious.

You must be a member to read the free short story of the week, but membership is free and also gives you access to the Classic Library (all free) and the Contemporary Library (stories cost $1 each.) If you want to find a particular story, such as my story, Penance (why yes, that was a bit of shameless self-promotion) just peruse the contemporary library. Penance is among the 2011 stories. Also, give consideration to buying the anthology.

Check it out at Short Story America.com -- http://www.shortstoryamerica.com/

It was silent, in the grave.

Will remembered having once heard that there was a time when the dead were accompanied by worms. Now, thanks to modern embalming methods and sealed burial vaults, he was utterly alone. It was dark. Cool. Silent.

He remembered wind chimes. Not like the ones you buy in a souvenir shop. This wind chime was formed of twine, bolts from his tool shed, and a wire clothes hanger. He remembered his daughter, Crystal, smiling as she presented the gift, wrapped in the comic section of the Sunday paper. He remembered that his wife, Tori, had laughed, though here in the grave he could not remember the sound of her laughter.

He remembered the seconds, minutes, hours, of Crystal squealing, wind chimes clinking, Tori talking. He remembered not being able to hear the game, though here in the grave he could no longer remember what game it had been. He only remembered wishing all the squealing clinking talking would stop.

Time twisted dizzily, and faces rushed through days, weeks, years. Mouths formed words that Will could not hear over the deafening silence of the grave.
...

To read the rest of this story, go to Fiction365, Saturday, Nov. 12 2011: http://www.fiction365.com.php5-12.dfw1-1.websitetestlink.com/?m=20111112&cat=1

I strongly encourage you to visit Fiction365, even if you don't want to read this story. F365 is a terrific source of short stories, and it's free!

In a smoky jazz club in the dark of the night, artists lay down music and murder….

This audio flash ficiton, "Deep Dark Blue" is available on sniplits.com:

http://sniplits.com/storiesforauthor.jsp?a=73

At first, she blamed it on the wine.

Helen Sophronia would never have left a book outside and gone to bed, yet there it was among the pine straw and beech leaves on her otherwise gleaming glass-topped patio table. Bad enough that her recurring dream woke her from a sound sleep, now she needed to fret about whether she was losing her mind. Right after cleaning the patio — she could not abide these messy remnants of unruly nature...



This Story is pending release in another publication. I will provide a link as soon as it is available.

Thanks for reading,
-- Jess