"When my mother made mashed potatoes they poured out clean and fluffy from the box. And she was scared when she made mashed potatoes, but not as scared as she would have been if she had made them from real potatoes.

Close Encounters of the Christmas Kind

My thanks once again go to Gabi for her sympathetic treatment of this story and I have to hope that she reads this version after the post edit additions I made.

I hope it improves the story...

Roger, Jerk & Roseanna---street people---spend the rainy winter of 1979 hunkered down in a banged up little mildew infested Dodge Dart. Be it ever so humble, it's home...

THE EXCITING CONCLUSION!!

A beleaguered sexual minority leads a high tech revolt against the evil Bruno's dictatorship. Will Tommy ever find his way back to reality? Or is THIS reality? Is FRFS (False Running Fantasy Syndrome) a legitimate diagnosis or merely a pop-psych fad? Is our dear Rosalie a true revolutionist or a double agent? Wow, is that a jetpack?! And what's John Williams doing with his Willie Johnson hanging out? It's all just...

While this story is intended as humorous some may find 

WARNING: While this story is intended as humorous some may find its coarse language & raunchy situations offensive...

ADDITIONAL NOTE:

Maybe I can have my computer moved and be on line in about a week or so. I have been in the process of moving and left my computer at my old address so that it could be used by my neighbor.

Hello,

Looking at the story index I don't see an easy way to tell which stories are complete.  Am I missing something ?

I really hate reading 20+ chapters of a new story only to find that I am left hanging !!!!

I saw a couple that said "final chapter" but most did not.

A wicked and decadent sequel to the Cinderella story...

 The main things are: 1. Always use the <strong>same pattern</strong>. 2. Use <strong>arabic numbers</strong> [1...295...???] for the chapter titles in the title field.

“It’s a door!” I say, “A door upstairs!  How’d that happen?

In the brave new world of tomorrow everyone is normal. But Timothy Roberts has a terrible secret. Despite being a product of the same genetic engineering and mind control implants as everyone else, and despite the government's insistance that mental aberrations like homosexuality and gender conflict are a thing of the past, he has known since adolescence that he's gay. He lives a life of deeply closeted desperation, haunted by the fear that he might be the last homosexual on Earth...

And Lo, the traveller came at last to the sky's edge. He put down his staff + poked his head thru the fabric of space, beholding the mighty clockwork of the cosmos, the great turning gears, the merry go round and the ferris wheel. He smelled the heavenly corndogs and heard the calliope music. And he said, "Hey wait for me you guys!"

 Healing a Princess

(On the Lake)

By Tim Knight

Well, I start to tell my story.  Cars rush up to us, lights flashing.  Men get out, bullhorn in one’s hand and guns in the hands of others.

Ten - Game Day

A fantasy adventure set in a strange indoor universe, inhabited by puppets, which is told in the form of a child's book report that keeps wandering off the topic...

Silver Blood-Epilogue
As we lifted away from the now burning city, I heard a voice emit from a solitary figure in the back, "Well done, but there are questions to be answered."

I am new to this website, so please excuse my challenged "ability" to navigate a new website. But how in the heck do I submit a story for the contest? I have the story in microsoft word ready to download. Thanks in advance for the information

Vern

Chapter 10 coming soon. It's considerably longer than the previous chapters were and is taking more time to edit. Please be patient.

Wow, the way things happen.  So Raphael knows some people.  He’s been around.  He’s a surprising surprise.  Quite the cosmopolitan.  He has been helpful.
We are looking over the digs when men come up and talk with Jacques.  Jacques comes over with them.  They have uniforms on.

“Mon Dieu!” Raphael exclaimed.
“What is it?”
“La Mer Morte.”
”The Dead Sea?”  Chloe asked.
“Quite so,” Raphael said emphatically.  “Look at those!!  It’s a total row of doors!”
“Yes,” I said.
Raphael moved closer to inspect.

“We were nothing too.”
“Nothing, too.”
“Nothing too.”
“But you’re not nothing.”
“Nothing exists in the Nothing.”
“Okay,” I said, “let me show you.”  And I pulled the door out of my pocket.

We sit down at Raphael’s restaurant, at a sidewalk table.
“Won’t somebody notice “Pierre” there?”  Asks Chloe.

Nine – Preparations