I had this to consider as I fell: that to be pushed from the eleventh floor of a slum hotel, in the end, isn’t so different from being pushed from the eleventh floor of the Ritz-Carlton. The outcomes would differ very little.
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Author: literallystories2014
Dead by Patty Somlo
Alejandro knew he was dead but that didn’t stop him from wanting to come to America. His body lay on the dry dirt exactly where he’d fallen, the muscles rapidly losing their ability to stretch out and contract. His mouth was fixed, oddly enough, in a permanent grin.
Literally Stories Week 22
Literally Stories welcomed a new author – Ashlie Allen – onto the site in week 22. We also saw the return of an ‘old boy’ in Dave Louden.
Newcomer Ashlie gave Wednesday a real chill with The Violin He Played Downstairs – keep an eye out for that kid Abramo folks, he’s a bit special.
In an alternative Ulster known as Ultra-Belfast Dave Louden’s protagonist was seated at a card table with a rather unsavoury bunch. Texas Hold’Em was their game. You got to hand it to Dave, it was a fine story.
Sandwiched between these diverse horrors we found Hugh Cron, who dealt readers another unsettling hand when he gave us The Choice. Hobson only knows what to make of that one?
Sweden is a wonderful country full of peace loving, pine furniture admiring Nordics. Erm – not according to Tobias Haglund it isn’t. Well, wasn’t, back in the day when Sadistic Justice got metered out here, there and ‘bloody’ everywhere, in his gory tale of valour and revenge and how not to form a queue at IKEA.
If your appetite wasn’t fully satisfied by Tobias’ smorgasbord of Scandinavian mayhem then no doubt you easily digested the Bread and Chicken Diane Dickson served up on Friday. Not a culinary delight but a literary one nonetheless.
Bread and Chicken by Diane M Dickson
The pain was indescribable. First had been shock and horror then disbelief and now all that was left was pain.
The Violin He Played Downstairs by Ashlie Allen
He won’t do anything else. All he ever does is sit downstairs and stroke his violin. No one recognizes the notes he plays. Most of the time he makes no effort to play pretty sounds. Maybe pretty noises break his heart because he thinks he’s ugly inside and out.
Continue reading “The Violin He Played Downstairs by Ashlie Allen”
Ultra-Belfast by Dave Louden – Adult Content
I had been in hell a week by this point. It looked a lot like Belfast. I knew it was hell because I couldn’t find any of my favourite bars and it was the 12th of July every day. The streets were awash with track-suited skinheads and chippie wrappers, and smelt of dark orange piss. I died the same age as Bukowski, seventy-three years-old. He had wanted to go at eighty making it with an eighteen year-old, I was just happy making it beyond fifty. It was a rare landmark for the men in my family.
Continue reading “Ultra-Belfast by Dave Louden – Adult Content”
Literally Stories – Week 21
We hope that you have all enjoyed this week’s mixed bag from Literally Stories as much as we have enjoyed presenting them to you.
There is always a buzz of excitement when we receive a new submission, this is tempered by nervousness and crossed fingers. We absolutely love accepting your short fiction pieces, we are thrilled to send an acceptance email and the following notification of publication date. All the stories, including our own are read by all the editors and to be approved they have to receive at least three strong YES votes. Sometimes a story will be borderline and then there is great discussion amongst the editors and on occasion one of us will champion a piece successfully and bring about a change of mind and a piece will gain approval. I mention this because we do want contributing authors to know that we always take your work very seriously and we do know how disappointing it is if we have to send that horrible “other” email.
Time to Change by Ceinwen Cariad Haydon
Jenny looked down at Rob’s sleeping face, his open mouth dribbling peaceably onto the pillow that supported his head. She was dressed, breakfasted and ready to go. She was ambivalent in the mornings. Her husband could not win, although he did not know it. She felt resentment if Rob didn’t get up to mark her departure to the office. She needed him to fuss over her a little, and pay attention to her comfort: a reward for her stalwart commitment to the daily grind of work? On the other hand she valued quiet and solitary mornings when he overslept, listening out for signs that he was stirring and willing him not to. She planted a light kiss on his forehead and tip-toed out of the bedroom.
Beach House by Diane M Dickson
I glanced up from the screen, resting my eyes and easing stiffened shoulder muscles. This job, editing copy for a company based in London is easy but tedious. It fits in though with the other things I like to do, the beach walks and gardening and most importantly going down to the nursing home. I am not keen on the job but I enjoy being in my office.
I love my home actually, I am very lucky. It has been in my family for four generations now and after the horrible time over the last few years it has taken me back, wrapped its solid stone bulk around me and held me safe.
Literally Stories – Week 20
Week 20 ! that’s a milestone isn’t it. There’s another one also, no prizes but can any of our regular readers guess what it is? Answers on a post card please (not really but there’s always the Your Thoughts page for those little titbits you want to share with us, we love to hear from you! But if you read on to the end I’ll reveal our other great milestone.
literally stories 