Computers and Bill Clinton’s penis consume the world. Meanwhile, from behind a desk, my older sister becomes my teacher. She’s twenty-six. I’m fourteen.
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Category: All Stories
Literally Reruns – Homes, Brothers and Fantasies by Tobias Haglund
Leila has brought out a serious piece by one of the founding father’s of the site – who is now a father father as well – how things have moved on. Anyway this is a story from lovely Tobias and this is what she said.
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Rio by Kailyn Kausen
Rio sits in an orange and yellow faded tent in the middle of an overgrown field. The sun is low in the sky and slants through the branches of trees that died long ago, grey and brittle instead of green and supple. There are buildings not too far from him—houses—but Rio doesn’t go to the houses. His parents told him not to go there.
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June’s Miniature Mart Off Highway 101 by Sage Tyrtle
Her box on the shelf at June’s Miniature Mart is getting dusty. She watches through her plastic window on the world as her aisle is put on sale. “50% off! Get ’em before they’re gone!”
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The Grim Morass by David Samuels
They say you’re a paladin, but all I see is a fool.
Look at you: armored like a crawdad with the brains to match. One wrong move on that poleboat and you’ll sink to the base of the swamp.
Gimme your hand. Let’s get you back on solid ground—if you can call this pier solid. The stilts wobble in the sludge, so watch your step.
Not a talker, clearly. Don’t bother unrolling that scroll. I know all about your oath of silence. Word travels fast among us Marshmen. As the village shaman, I was among the first to learn about your little quest. You seek redemption, yes?
Then go home. Adopt a war orphan and get on with your life. Truth be told, you’d have better luck floating in that platemail than slaying the Bogroth.
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The Grittiness of Mango Chiffon by Mitchell Toews
Oh, those squinty little eyes. I’ll never forget the look of them. Like the night she found tobacco crumbs in my baseball jacket pocket. She spread the brown flakes out on a white napkin under our dining room table’s one-hundred-watt bulb.
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Downhill by Yash Seyedbagheri
I aim my phone, recording chaos. My classmates can’t beat this, several hundred miles away. An ambulance, a snow-covered hill, a sea of Ponderosa pines, spectators and bright red and blue sleds.
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Literally Reruns – Skye Jim McKay by Hugh Cron
Long time visitors will probably have realised that I upload these Rerun suggestions in the order in which we receive them. So here we are with a look back to last year when Leila sent in this piece by fellow Editor and backbone of the site, Hugh Cron.
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Captain Carey’s Luck by Michael Bloor
I came across the manuscript below in a second-hand shop in Simla, the former British hill-station in the foothills of the Himalayas, among some papers previously belonging to a Victorian military surgeon. The ms was seemingly written in Bombay (now Mumbai) and signed by Captain Jahleel Brenton Carey of the 98th Regiment of Foot (later to become the South Wales Borderers). It is dated the 23rd of February, 1883 (two days before his death, aged thirty six), and appears to be written as a kind of testament.
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Strangerman by Arthur Davis
My nails are dirty. Always have been.
A constant reminder to Irma that I wasn’t good enough for her.
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literally stories 