Here we are at Week 214.
I have been thinking on genres that I don’t normally think on.
Continue reading “Week 214 – YA, CF And A Serial Killers Skud Book.”
Category: All Stories
Wednesday Night Lights by Victor Floyd
Locate me in the back row of the church choir. It’s not difficult. Since it’s rehearsal night, there aren’t that many of us, and even fewer if you are looking at the men’s row. That’s me, younger than the geezer profundo over to my left. I’m young enough to be the the son of the forty-something tenor to my right. He sings ahead of the beat. I was pressured to join because I play the piano. Never let them know you can play the piano, by the way—free advice. This is one of my first (respectable) adult activities: the church choir.
Real Time by Katie Nickas
It occurred to me during our second date that Mike didn’t exist in real time.
When we first met, he was friendly—cruelty-free, like a human-sized rabbit. We ate at a sub shop, but first, he drove us backwards through the drive-thru of a shuttered restaurant. Big, white truck built for long hauls and first impressions. The perfect way to convey unspecified wants.
Miss Hart vs. The State by Carlie Morgan
This story deals with subjects that some readers may find upsetting.
1
I’m willing the old lady to take her seat already so the driver can go. Come on, come on, old girl, just pick a seat, any seat.
“Please take mine,” I say and stand. She smiles a paper-thin smile and eases herself onto the damp fabric. I hold onto a pole as the bus shudders onwards and we’re off again. I take out my phone and replay the message. “Miss Hart, Tabitha is unwell again. Please come and pick her up as soon as possible.”
The way Tabby’s teacher lingers on the word “again” sends a painful throb to my stomach.
Story removed by the author
This story has been removed at the request of the author.
Banner Image: Pixabay.com
Fourth of July by Jacob Wrich
The Year You Were Born:
Your mother leaned forward in an aluminum lawn chair, scrunched her toes into the grass as the hot wind blew waves through her summer dress. She took another fleshy bite of watermelon and let her eyes slide closed as she savored the cool sweetness that filled her mouth. Your dad sat at the picnic table drinking a can of beer. He cupped a match from the breeze and lit a cigarette, and when your mother leaned forward, he stole a glimpse of her swollen breasts through his exhale.
Literally Reruns – Pandemic by Roger Ley
Leila Alllison has been rooting in the basement again and this time presented us with a Sci Fi story for another moment in the spotlight. This is what she said:
Week 213 – Wordcount, Liking Dick And Interestingly Placed Piercings
I never plan any of these weekly postings. I’m sure that you have noticed. Maybe if I said, I never plan any of these weakly postings, it may be more apt.
Continue reading “Week 213 – Wordcount, Liking Dick And Interestingly Placed Piercings”
The Carnassa Sea by R.C. Capasso
“It’s time to go down to the surface.”
Mayli turned her face against the cabin wall. “I’m too tired.”
Tama took a breath. “I know you are. But you’ll like the surface, and it’s an easy transport.”
Mayli swiveled her head back to reveal a pale face, too thin, too creased for such a young age. “Easy?”
Of course nothing was easy for Mayli. The encroaching paralysis brought pain with every movement. But that was the point, wasn’t it?
Short Straw by Louisa Owen
We stared at the gravestone.
Tess Jones
A bad wife, but an adequate mother and grandmother
literally stories 