
She had initially thought him a good enough guy, someone she could see dating, perhaps with long-term potential. Sure, they had drank too much and had sex on their first date, but it wasn’t like he drank too much and then masturbated while she watched in horror. No, she was a willing, although inebriated, partner in the act. An adult capable of her own decisions. And she thought his reply to her question of what is left if we have sex on the first night was incredible. Everything, he had said. Of course, later, when he had moved into her apartment four months into their relationship, that seemed a little fast in retrospect. But she hadn’t said no, and the decision had made at least financial sense. The rent at her apartment was a fraction of what he had been paying. Now they would be splitting her fraction. A bed monkey, and cheaper rent. She could overlook small issues, focusing instead on the big picture. Besides, she loved him. They were both adults, and could make their own adult decisions. And, importantly, he had two kids from his previous marriage, so he would understand her struggles raising her own son as a single parent. Then there was the fact that he had an actual career, a teacher in fact, he drove a new truck, and, she thought, they made a nice fit.
Author: literallystories2014
Home by Frederick Foote
I live up off Sorrel Creek road in Gusty Hills. Its eighty acres of good pasture land on rolling hills with majestic Blue Oaks and plebeian scrub brush residing on gentle swells like green clad bosoms in the spring and tanned brown breasts in the fall.
I live in the house that my grandfather, father and I were born in. A solid Oak and Sugar Pine structure with redwood shingles and two stone fireplaces.
Shattered Lives by Diane M Dickson
It is dark here, the floor is wet and the smell is dreadful. The window is barred and I can’t reach it to see out. There is nothing in this stone room, nothing except me and Alia.
The Show by Charles Bigelow
The bars of the cage sparkled. Each morning the cleaning detail scrubbed them from outside the building using long handled brushes. A clean cage kept life threatening germs away from the inmates, the same germs that caused the near extinction of the human race.
Literally Stories Week 23
Three new authors graced Literally Stories with their literary talent this week: Patty Somlo, dm gillis and Alex Rezdan.
Patty kicked things off on Monday with Dead, a wryly observed tale from beyond the grave. Richard Ardus commented: “I enjoyed reading this thought provoking piece. The Magic Realism twist makes it one to remember.”
On Tuesday Tobias Haglund’s tragic love story Before Hitting the Ground had June Griffin remarking: “It may be a sad story, Tobias, but it’s also beautiful, moving and memorable.”
Off the wall – anarchic – satirical or just plain funny – take your pick from any of those or read what Vic Smith had to say about Wireless by another LS newcomer, dm gillis: “Funny, witty, disturbing; this is great stuff. I love it.”
What I am about to tell you should come as no surprise; yet again Hugh Cron is worthy of his ‘dirty realism’ tag with this story of an apparently reformed alcoholic, in Revelation. Vic Smith agrees no doubt when he says: “Quality, not quantity. Not a bad idea. Who wants to live forever?”
Friday saw the third and final newcomer of the week to Literally Stories, Alex Rezdan. Alex might have won the prize for longest story title of the week with A New Perspective or That Time I was Allergic to Wussing Out but he will have to wait to this time next week to see if he has won the much-coveted accolade of Story of the Week. Diane Dickson seems keen on Alex chances as she says: “Very nicely constructed. An entertaining story with a perfect mix of humour and horror.”
A Dave who did poll well this week is Dave Louden. Not a soap box in sight in this week’s Story of the Week, Ultra-Belfast.
Super.
If you missed that contest never fear here’s another one.
A New Perspective or That Time I Was Allergic to Wussing Out by Alex Rezdan
There’s nothing like almost killing yourself to put things into perspective. The slow, dull lull of life seeping out of your body one drop at a time, and you, rushing to say all you need to say before it’s all over. And by you, I mean me, of course.
Continue reading “A New Perspective or That Time I Was Allergic to Wussing Out by Alex Rezdan”
Wireless by dm gillis
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.
*
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.
