It was a late spring day in 1981. Ana Severino clocked off early from the paediatrics ward in Hospital de Madrid. The new national healthcare system meant there were more and more staff on the ward, so no-one would notice her leave a few minutes before the end of her shift.
Leila Allison has been down in the bowels of LS Towers again – she sneaked in under cover of night and we found her in the early dawn light clutching this little gem. This is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Midas Brown by Nik Eveleigh”
It is a sad time when there is more horror in reality than there is in any of our imaginations.
Our thoughts go out to anyone caught up in the atrocities in Ohio and Texas.
Continue reading “Week 235 – Ignored Annoyances, 5 Years Looming And A Saturday Special”
Mama was in what Nana called “a manic phase.” She paced around the yard, cigarette in hand, while my brother and I waited for our father with her.
Come now, Stranger, and be at your ease. It is true that in the past I was cruel to travelers, but those days are now long faded. You see before you a broken creature. I will do you no harm. You must be weary after your long journey. Sit yourself down. Take what food and drink there is. It is only the simple fare of a shepherd, but I offer what I have.
John Martin was hired by a funeral home. Retired, poor, he was to be night watchman. Alone in the former mansion, a Victorian, all he had to do was wear his uniform, walk around the four stories, including the attic and the basement, and make sure nobody had broken in.
“You’ve never told me why you and Chris split up?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but you’re hurting.”
“Don’t say that mum, I’m not fucking hurting.”
“…Sounds like your fine.”
Continue reading “Collars And Cuffs by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content”
So Leila bears her soul in the light of this rerun. I’m sure we can all sympathise. This is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns, Odyssey of Tears by Titus Green”
Here we go again.
Another seven days have come and gone.
Between 2000 and 2011, 215 people in America died from objects falling off buildings. And no, in the scheme of mass shootings and domestic homicides and car accidents, this statistic is nothing. Irrelevant. Flaccid, lifeless. The likelihood of a carpet bag filled with steel hammers falling twenty-nine stories, making contact with your skull, and fusing a metal-and-brain sandwich into hot concrete is nearly zero. For the most part, you should feel inclined to leave your protective headgear at home.
literally stories 