Eight Maids a-Yelping

“What’s a milkmaid to do? The only thing bovine hereabouts is the Silly Cow who owns the place. During the first seven days of Christmas, she let her true love convert her manor house into an aviary.”

“Tell me about it! I’m a housemaid, but I don’t do windows and I don’t do guano.”

A barefoot parlor maid lamented, “Look at my bloody feet after half a dozen geese pecked my corns.”

The other five recently-hired maids commiserated with them.

“Let’s tar and feather the harpy. We can substitute pine pitch, in a pinch, and there’s no shortage of feathers.”

From Guest Contributor John H. Dromey

John’s short fiction has appeared in Mystery Weekly Magazine, Stupefying Stories Showcase, Thriller Magazine, Unfit Magazine, and elsewhere.

Voices Of A New Generation

Dealing with young people at work, Carson experienced flashbacks to his own sometimes turbulent adolescence. He recalled vividly his occasional intense suffering, not from outside influences, but from his own changing body. In particular, an unanticipated growth spurt when he shot up several inches in height in a short period of time. He even got stretch marks around his knees. Growing pains are real.

As he monitored hundreds of gestation tanks occupied by genetically-modified beings constantly infused with growth hormones, Carson was assailed by endless waves of primal screams.

Who’d have thought growing a clone army would be so noisy?From Guest Contributor John H. Dromey

John’s short fiction has appeared in Mystery Weekly Magazine, Stupefying Stories Showcase, Thriller Magazine, Unfit Magazine, and elsewhere.