Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Serve.

100 Little Black Books
Mrs. Bernice Pink always carried her little back notebook with her wherever she went. Even her husband Chester, known to all as "Chester Pink the Mattress King," couldn't pry that little book out of her thin, pale hands that very special sultry evening in Chicago when he knelt on one knee with a heartfelt proposal at their favorite Italian restaurant.
By Melissa G Wilson5 years ago in Serve
Don't Judge A Book
Don’t Judge A Book The 1960’s were a volatile time in America’s history. Political divide, racial injustice and a musical soundscape that spewed lyrical protest toward the war in Vietnam. Benny hailed from Meridian Mississippi and just after high school his number came up in the draft. The old south had taught Benny, an African American to question and to be leery of the world. His father had been a second-generation sharecropper and barely able to feed his family of eight. Benny was more enlightened than his parents and siblings. He had been given an old tube radio by a man Benny dug a drainage ditch for. In lieu of money, the man paid Benny with the antique radio that still worked quite well. The radio became a companion to Benny and gave him a window to the world far reaching the mid-south. Mystery Theatre and other programs of that era helped Benny use his imagination more vividly than a television which the family never owned.
By Chuck Edwards5 years ago in Serve
Parade Field
I’m standing at parade rest on the 25th Infantry Division parade field. I’m one of about 5,000 participants in the Operation Enduring Freedom-5 Farewell Ceremony. Somewhere out there in that huge, colorful group of civilians is my family, looking for me in the sea of desert camouflage on the field. The brilliant sunlight bathes us in heat and light. I smell freshly mown grass and my own sweat. Wispy clouds brush the tops of coconut palms as they pass overhead in their own good time. My toes are numb. The Division Commander, Major General Olson, speaks at a wooden podium adorned with the green tarot leaf and lightning bolt—aka the “electric chili pepper”—that represents the “Tropic Lightning” Division. He’s mercifully brief.
By Steven Thomas Howell5 years ago in Serve
All Threats
“Grandpa, tell us another story!” the children shouted. He’d finished opening their cards and now everyone had a birthday cupcake on a paper plate with colorful balloons. “Tell us the one about your leg!”
By Horace Wheatley5 years ago in Serve
Miniature Giant
--February of 2015 With thoughts of my grandfather, I stood in the room of a place that was the equivalent of the Versailles for the elderly. I looked into the faces of generations of experiences, and instantly felt outclassed. Like a clumsy librarian tasked to oversee an archive bigger than herself. All there was to me was my notebook and an honest curiosity. I hoped that was enough. The Aegis assistant and my professor paired us off to begin the interviews. Where after introducing each resident, we would raise our hands for the individual who interested us.
By Dalena Le5 years ago in Serve
Disillusionment
The dark splodges of ink sprawled across the pages of the journal arrest my attention. Pitch black, their meaning engulfs me and I marvel at their dazzling intensity and depiction of the horrors and triumphs of war, exuding sorrow, hardship, loss and suffering. As my eyes hungrily devour each syllable on the page, I am swept away by the depths of its message, transformed by its profundity. Inexplicable darkness pervades it, yet it is laced with hope, the simple musings of a young man caught in the throes of war.
By Tahlia Hunter5 years ago in Serve
Reaching for the Stars
I, Reggie Fishbourne, had reached for the stars and fallen short. Like a boy, climbing his roof, only to topple off the edge and land in the bush below. I would be lucky to walk away from my current predicament with only a few bruises and thorns stuck in my side.
By Thomas5 years ago in Serve
A Veteran's Story
A Veteran’s Story by Laurel Richards Today is September 11th – 09/11th in the military world evokes so many painful memories. It was the day when so many innocent people died in New York, Pennsylvania and Virginia. A day like no other in history when Islamic martyrs decided that they would meet 100 virgins by becoming suicide bombers.
By Laura Ibanez5 years ago in Serve
The Balance Demanded
The wind cried as it slithered across the battlefield carrying with it the stench of rotting bodies and the promise of more bloodshed. The cries of the wounded and dying followed the wind up the massive hill to the encampment of the victors of that day’s battle. Most of the tents were dark, the soldiers in them either asleep or dying on the muddy field beneath the safety of their bedrolls. Three tents at the center of the camp blazed with firelight and the bustling of bodies between two of them identified them as hospital tents. The third, slightly larger and filled with dire conversation held five people around a table covered in maps and battle plans. A sixth person, cloaked in the enemy’s colors and tied to a chair in a far corner, tried to remember every detail spoken in her presence.
By E.M. Vis5 years ago in Serve
The Desert Raid
A short story based on a dream I had Maxwell turned his head to look at everyone in the hanger. 150, 200 people, he reckoned. He still couldn’t believe he formed a team this big to go after his goal, a goal that became shared, a goal that was about to be achieved… Of that, he had no doubt!
By Gabriel Mohr5 years ago in Serve
In War, Good Graces
Silently, we looked out on the field from the depth of our trench, fellow comrades leaning against the bunker, glazed eyes peering through peepholes in mortar, folds in sandbags, mouths exhaling hot stale breath that misted in our faces in the cold morning air. We were a stack of sardines pressed against the interminable, cemented walls and heavy, sand-filled burlap sacks comprising the barricade, green steel helmets and bayonet-tipped rifles flitting the air. All of us, hundreds were collect, ready in courage, yet unspeakably horrified we might not be coming back.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Serve
Nazi Treasure. Top Story - February 2021.
April 5, 1945 Cpl. Lance Johnson, Pfc. Josh Dickerson, Pvt. Terry Parker and Pvt. Gary Daniels was sitting outside the office of Lt. Gen. Richard Taylor, who is in charge of finding Nazi treasure, that was looted during the German occupation of Western Europe from 1940 to 1945.
By Roy Tsukishima5 years ago in Serve