Category Archives: samples

Where? A very Shrt Stry

“You know, it has been a while since we had an adventure.”

The two men sat in the coffee shop looking out the window at the passing pedestrians.

“I know. But that’s life Steve.”

“It’s life as you make it. Look Donny, there’s got to be something you’ve wanted to get doing. I know you-”

“Yeah, I do, but listen-”

“No you listen Donny. You’ve been working night and day in that office, hammering away at the sales figures, meeting with your customers, building things up. It’s time to take a brake and live-look at yourself.”

Donald Grear looked at himself in the cafe window. He looked older, but not dignify-ably old.

“I was thinking,” He rubbed at his shaved smooth, undignified face, “I might want to grow a beard.”

“A beard?” Steve drank nervously from his cup. “A beard, that’s your idea of an adventure?”

“When was the last time I grew one?”

“When youuuu-were hiking!”

“Yeah, when I was hiking. What do you say to a hike?”

“It can’t be as simple as that.”

“Steve.” Donald shook his head. “First you want me to jump up and run toward the setting sun like a cowboy, and now you’re questioning my big idea?”

“It’s never as simple as you say.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He sipped his coffee and looked out the window. “It’s also where you’re right.”

“I knew it. What’s on your mind Donny.”

“We get a gang together and we go for a hike. Then-”

“Then?” Steve leaned forward, he was always pensive and ready for more.

“Nothing is finalized, but-” Donald paused and looked out the window.


“We’ll see.”

Steve deflated in his chair and sipped at his drink. He’d call the gang, it was time to hit the trail. He smiled. Things were finally starting to come together.

Thanks for reading, and for following my eclectic blog.

Keep writing.


Lika Chan’s Father?!?!? The Gender Bender of Dolls


My daughter got a play set from her grandparents this Christmas. The set itself had about half the things pictured on the box, a typical technique for getting customers to buy more and more stuff that is shown. But what drew my attention was the family dolls pictured on the box. Lika is the main character of this family and is the Japanese equivalent of Barbie. In the picture there is a mother, grand mother, a sister, younger toddler type kids and look at the father! Basically they just cut back a regular girl doll and called it papa. It’s either encouraging that I can read that in Japanese, or upsetting that this character is the father of the family.

Even in Japan men are men. Funny they had to cost cut him in the case of Lika chan’s!

Tangerine a short story

“He didn’t want to lose his train of thought. He wanted to blow it up and examine the pieces that showered down.”

“You’re an idiot Stoneburg.”

“I’m the idiot? He was the one who tried to do it. I warned him of course, but you can’t warn people like Vince Tork, it only makes them more determined to prove you wrong.”

“Then keep you mouth shut for once.”

“That’s the idiot in my I guess. You’re right you know. Even I make mistakes. Don’t get on my case about it though. I do have a little pride left.”

“Where’s Vince now?”

“In the hospital. They said he might not wake up.”

“He will.”

“How do you know Mary?”

“I know. People like Vince always wake up. You don’t kill them, God just stops them in the end. Vince never let life flow by.”

“He does fill every hour with minutes doesn’t he?”

“And every second with electricity.”

“I better get going. They said that if he pulls through the publishers want him to sign off on the manuscript.”

“You’ve got it right here?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you Mary. You’d have wormed your way into it and you know it! Listen I’m going to the hospital. Lock the door on the way out.”

“You won’t let me see even the cover page?”

“Not even the inside of this brief case Mary. Nada.”

He slammed a glass of water and stepped for the door. Mary sat motionless.

“You really think he’ll pull out of it?” There was doubt in his voice, hand wringing sort of worry.

“Absolutely Jonathan. He always does.”

The door closed and she continued to look at the big mahogany desk. Traffic noise seeped in through the window.

“Rush hour.” She said to the empty room. “To bad he always comes back. Vince, you really need to retire.”

She fingered the gold band on her ring finger and suppressed a smile.


Nathan A. Emery is a novelist and short story auhtor. His latest short story collection is Gold River City 100 available on

An Excerpt: Gold River City 100 Chapter 83

Thought I would share this chapter to wet your appetites. With a hundred chapters to choose from I thought I would start out simple. Enjoy.

Chapter 83

“I can’t live here anymore-”

“Calm down Kat.”

“This place is so boring, we’ve been everywhere, seen everything there is to see.”

Her voice seemed a long way off, but it was in the room behind him. She had finished vacuuming the living room and was pulling her hair back. Tony looked back over the city from their balcony.

“I don’t think we’ve seen everything. The City has a lot more to see than meets the eye.”

“You’re just in love.”


“With this City!” She sat on the sofa, he walked in, sliding the screen back in place behind him.

“I’m in love with you. The City, she’s a diversion.”

“She’s a pain in the-”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We’ve been everywhere on foot.”

“What about from here to Purple.”


“I asked someone about the love hotel with the Statue of Liberty on the top, the one by the river. It went bankrupt and another company bought it and changed the name to Purple.”

“Why do you want to go there?”

“Because we’ve never gone that way before.”

They left the apartment, in minutes they were walking the river path.

“The same guy told me a typhoon blew the statue off the top once. That must have been a sight.”

“Where did it land?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

Ducks took flight. The trees swayed in the wind. A man pedaling very slowly fell over when he noticed the two foreigners walk by.

“There it is.”

The hotel sat along the river, with the main road in the background.

“They painted it purple, odd color for a love hotel.”

“I won’t go there.” He smirked.

A jet flew over, low against the sun, heading to the airport.

They turned, looking back at the city.

The sun was at its 6 o’clock angle, yellow as a lemon peal.

“Maybe it has something left to give us.” She looked into his eyes, but only saw the sun.


Keep writing!