“Yesterday, upon the stair,
A little man who wasn’t there!
He wasn’t there again today,
Oh how I wish he’d go away!”
–William Hughes Mearns, “Antigonish”
Category: All Stories
Tylen Brackus by Tom Sheehan
I will tell you at the outset that I have seen some puzzling and imponderable events or situations in my life. That life is now well into its ninth decade. Some of the circumstances were believable, some not; some I wanted to believe, some I didn’t. All of them, each instance, whether believable or not, had been caused or created or somehow set into motion by the attitude or action of generally distinctive and memorable men and women, whether for what they were or what they did, or, in some circumstances, what they did not do. Believe me, the chance of something not happening is oftentimes as much a story as that which happens. My wife Agnes was a woman such as I have spoken, and old acquaintance Tylen Brackus was such a man. As Agnes did things at her own swift command, Tylen also did things; he moved things at appropriate rate, though he was born into this life with but one fully useful arm, the other a mere shaft with a mere hand. His deformity was, as one might say of him, in miniature.
Literally Reruns – Toffee Head Tom by Hugh Cron
Leila has been down into the depths of LS towers again and rooted out a story by Editor and author Hugh Cron – I love it when that happens. This is what she said.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Toffee Head Tom by Hugh Cron”
Week 278 – Statute Statues, Humanitarian Humanitarians And Did Vera Do Any Fuckies. (Warning – Strong Language)
Here we are at week 278.
Father’s Day came and went. I miss out on this. Maybe there should be a ‘Thank Fuck You Are Not Polluting The World With Your Offspring Day’ That could be for all the unselfish souls who’ll deal with their own pish when they get dribbley.
An Act of Courage by Robert P. Bishop
Jacob Mundy glanced at the ominous cumulonimbus clouds boiling overhead. He clutched the sack of groceries to his chest and hurried down the sidewalk toward his home, trying to beat the coming storm. It wasn’t the rain he feared; it was the lightning that came with the storm. Jacob knew if he were caught outside he would be struck dead by a bolt of lightning, fried in his tracks, his groceries, sodden and disintegrating from the rain, scattered like so much litter next to his charred and twisted body. This vision terrified Jacob. He leaned forward and increased his pace. “Oh, God, oh, God, I’m going to get zapped,” he whimpered and walked faster.
An End Resolved by Hope Matyas
You feel it in your soul when the notes swing low and tumble over themselves after a hovering vibrato. The brass sax breathing warm air from wet lips, waiting to create a new feel.
Face of the Mountain by Tom Sheehan
Hobie Barkley was a first-riser most of his life, and once he was of exploring age, able to go on his own, he toured the mountain like it was newly presented to him, a gift from the God of Mountains. Nobody in the Greater Hills Region of Colorado knew it any better than him. Even some of the old prospectors, their habits and labors cut way back by age, infirmity or a newly-found woman, did not rise to his habits.
Fear and Loathing Amongst the Ducks of the Serengeti (or, Coup D’etat Foie Gras) (In memory of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson) by Leila Allison
Last night I dreamt of the happy-clappy pixie-land extolled by the counterculture of yore. That hippie Eden where daisies shot from rifles because everyone there was so high on lysergic acid that they no longer experienced reality. It was a place populated by paisley-eyed toad kissers who honestly believed that they were the first generation of paisley-eyed toad kissers who knew that the world sucked and that they alone could kiss toads into The Gurus of Change. Viva Revolucion! Alas, psychedelic drugs and fairy tale-belief systems are the stuff of idealistic chimeras. It all eventually wears off and leaves you cold and cynical. By and by you come to the hideous conclusions that the Good Guys never stay good after they win the Revolution, and that every toad you kiss has a way of changing into Richard Nixon.
Literally Reruns – The Deep End by Sarah Dara
Leila has been passing some of the lock down – locked down. Down in the dark entrails of LS towers. When the noise of her hammering on the doors became too disturbing we let her out and gave her a bite to eat and a little drink. She brought this piece up with her and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – The Deep End by Sarah Dara”
Week 277 – Spoofing Horror, Not Doing Disney And A Matter Of Taste.
Here we are at Week 277.
Another week has come and gone.
We suggest that for last week you:
Now throw a kiss and say bye bye.
(Anyone know the reference??)
Continue reading “Week 277 – Spoofing Horror, Not Doing Disney And A Matter Of Taste.”
literally stories 