I hope Leila remembers about trails of breadcrumbs. She is going deep into the darkness now and we don’t know what will happen if the canary is busy. She found a piece from 2015 and this is what she said:Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Pow Wow Travels by Darlene P Campos”
The sun is a stanza in the sky – a well written first stanza of a poem, or a song. Perhaps, this is a first stanza that bears the misty wings of a dream. Perhaps, that’s why it rises and gently floats off the page, to settle in the azure folds of the sky . . .
Red lacquer on her toenail, in the exact colour of the Duesy parked outside. One good thing about putting up with Fritz, was the cabbage.
“Money, money” she mouthed mutely; placing the cupid-bow stencil on her lips. Painting them to match the car and the nails.
Another good thing was that a man was never going to replace her in this business; no matter how wonderful the Maybelline; no one will ever want to see scantily clad men in the movies.
Tan Son Nhut Airbase, South Vietnam, 1968: 10° 46’ 5.99” N
Sweat stained the underarms of his short-sleeved khakis and dripped from his upper lip. But after six months in Nam, surviving its hot-and-wet and hot-and-dry seasons, Jeremy didn’t notice. His mind still wandered the jungles of the Central Highlands, in the teak forests, hunting the enemy and sometimes finding them.
My Family Values – Tess Overland
I love my family.
My family is the most important thing in my life.
My family is the wings that keep me aloft.
My family, sometimes, on rare occasions, can be a bit too much for me.
The accumulative effects of dealing with my family can be exhausting.
My family is getting on my last fucking nerve.
This is one of two stories that I’ve been given free gratis with. I really do appreciate that and that is why I wanted to explain why I chose this one.
I was playing around, for so many reasons, with changed perceptions and this is what I came up with.
My fellow editors felt the content was too strong but it had to be for what I was going for. I wanted to see if I could alter a reader’s sympathies and to do that I needed the situation to be so abhorrent that they would need a real change of heart.
I wondered if we always fall down on one side or another with our sympathies or were there situations where, until all was revealed, our initial gut feelings may not be relied on and would be changed not just dramatically but more than once.
Delphine’s teacher cracked a joke. Delphine didn’t smile because she didn’t think it was funny. The teacher said, ‘Oh dear, Delphine. I do feel sorry for you. At the age of seven you ought to know what humour is.’ She brought her out to the front of the class. ‘Now, everyone, let’s show Delphine how we express humour.’
It was the summer that cost us more than we knew. When we atoned for our sins and kept on sinning. When a small part of us died and we fumbled to fill the growing void. When we forgot, in truth, how to ask. The summer Ben slept with Lola, who was loved by Jeremy who slept with Kat who fucked, despite her beauty, like a corpse. And later, when a rash smothered his groin like English Ivy, Jeremy scuttled around the kitchen, poking his member like a cactus.
A Feeble Fable of the Fantasmagorical by Miss Renfield Stoker-Belle, Noted Supernaturalist Featuring an Appearance by Judge Jasper P. Montague, Quillemender And a Futile Forward by Leila Allison
It’s a fallow and disconsolate world in which we live. Even here at this side of reality populated mainly by Pen Names, Imaginary Friends and Fictional Characters, you’ll find more Juggalos per square inch than persons with sustainable IQs contributing to the gene pool. The pain of it all becomes clear on the day you look in the mirror and correctly suspect that the best years have gone by. You gaze into the reflection of your suddenly cautious, peering avatar and wonder what happened to the footloose, laughing face who had been looking back at you every day up through yesterday. It seems impossible that this paradoxically “new” used you has ever had an interesting thought in her life; or that she had even at one time tolerated the Juggalos–as long as they stayed upwind of her location. Continue reading “Zippy and the Zephyrling:”
Foreword: This is a story that I have been given the go ahead with even though it was a split decision and wasn’t accepted as a majority. I am very grateful.
I wanted to explain where this came from. I think this is the best example I have of a state of mind dictating a story. Writing is therapeutic. To go somewhere you would never tread yourself is as liberating as you can get. I’ve always thought when life really gets to you, do something horrific on a sheet of paper. Challenge yourself to write a character that has no redeeming qualities what-so-ever.
You can end up with something dark, ‘passionate’ and an MC that you’ve absolutely no empathy for.
…And its fun to worry those who want to analyse the writer more than the story!
(Last Warning – Very strong language and distasteful adult content / attitude. Do not read if you are liable to be offended.)