New York City Archives

The Candy Store On Queens Boulevard

Anita G. GormanNovember 8, 2019

The Candy Store On Queens Boulevard written by: Anita G. Gorman @aggorman In the 1940s on Queens Boulevard near my house in Elmhurst, Queens, there s...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

His Arms Around Her Tightened

Terry BrewerOctober 14, 2019

His Arms Around Her Tightened written by: Terry Brewer @Stories2121 It isn’t about the money. There isn’t any. I blew through my inheritance within...

EnglishLiterature4 min read

Six Seconds

Roger TurnerMay 1, 2019

Six Seconds written by: roger turner @titansdad Six seconds What takes that long? You can't write yourself a letter You can't write yourself a son...

EnglishPoetrySpilled History1 min read

A Stone Walled Heart

Anne GDecember 3, 2018

A Stone Walled Heart written by: Anne G @TheInkTruth Take a walk Through Ole New York Legacy of history Of what was And now would ...

Anne GEnglishPoetry1 min read

May Day

Tim GardinerMarch 25, 2018

May Day written by: Tim Gardiner @timgardiner3 as she sleeps so many questions on 34th Street... answers remain on the 86th floor NOTE...

EnglishPoetrySpilled History0 min read

No, It Was Not A Halloween Prank

Dr Santosh BakayaNovember 4, 2017

No, it was not a Halloween prank written by: Dr Santosh Bakaya Was someone playing a Halloween prank Near the shimmering Hudson river bank? Buddies ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Indestructible

Anne GMay 31, 2017

Indestructible written by: Anne G @TheInkTruth Indestructible city of glass, steel and stone built on Gneiss bedrock, millennia old Towers ...

Anne GEnglishPoetry0 min read

Striped Shirts and Mini Skirts

Robbie MassoMay 11, 2017

Striped Shirts and Mini Skirts written by: Robbie Masso @robbie.masso She took the stage and sounded like the New York punk scene of the 70’s. De...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Breathing City

Nesbit and GibleyDecember 18, 2016

The Breathing City written by: Nesbit and Gibley @nesbitandgibley The train ramps over rail bumps, a beating heart beneath our feet. This old thing h...

English1 min read

New York Values

Anne GApril 20, 2016

New York Values Commentary by Anne G Recently, much has been said about New York values. Although the person who first made this comment does not mer...

Anne GArticle1 min read

New York

John LopesApril 19, 2016

New York written by: John Lopes @PoetryIncubator Your avenues sweat subterranean blues, tenor men dressed in Friday night’s best tweed jazz ensemble ...

English1 min read

Summer Days on Brooklyn Streets

Anne GJuly 27, 2015

Summer Days on Brooklyn Streets by Anne G from dawn to dusk were so much fun Sunrise came we played all day we'd skip and jump Hopscotch - The Johnny...

Anne GEnglishMy BrooklynPoetry1 min read

A Shameful Past

Anne GJune 8, 2015

A Shameful Past An Anne G Original U-Blog On June 19TH (Freedom Day), a plaque will be erected between Wall Street and Water Street finally giving credence...

Anne GArticleEnglish0 min read

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Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...