How all this got started was there was this guy Lee, I don’t think anybody remembers his last name. He hadn’t been in Springdale long. Quiet guy, late 20s. Decent looking. Beard, muscles, longish hair, bit of a mountain man way about him.
Category: All Stories
The Familiar Journey by Bethan Dee
The voices of the three funny men occupy my headphones, and I rub my new, hastily bought gloves together. On a Friday afternoon, in early December, the central train station is naturally pulsating with luggage-burdened passengers. Their conversations are upbeat, their postures eager. I find it a nice change of pace; seeing faces that aren’t marred by frustrated creases. The train times are so far unaffected, and for the time being, civility reigns supreme. We’re all going home. And it is such a wonderful feeling.
Slipping Gears by Meagan Noel Hart
Henry watched the girl in her drop-waisted dress, heavy brown hair tied up in an even heavier bow, as she scrubbed molasses off the drive chain of the Black Beauty bicycle. She worked the delicate brushes through the tiny crevices, dunking them in saltwater — a necessary evil — to free them of gook. Her dress was stained, and brown water dripped over her knees.
Literally Reruns – The Amalgamated Union of Pennames and Imaginary Friends by Leila Allison
A regular contributor to the site Dave Henson has had a root through the back rooms and come up with this gem from Leila Allison. This is what he said:
Week 212 – Questionable Stains, Underlying Secrets And Drinking Chemicals
Here we go again!
This is posting number 212.
These weeks come and go in what seems to be a good seven days.
There are some things that I miss as they aren’t done anymore. (Having a life, being bothered and reasons for living have always been debatable so I am ignoring them!)
Continue reading “Week 212 – Questionable Stains, Underlying Secrets And Drinking Chemicals”
A Pill to Love, A Pill to Forget, A Pill to Live Forever by L’Erin Ogle
I walk to work under a dull gray sky. Last I heard, there was still blue sky somewhere above Alaska. My brother and his wife went there, to live off the grid. I am gridlocked, travelling the same two miles back and forth every day. Work, home, work, home.
Continue reading “A Pill to Love, A Pill to Forget, A Pill to Live Forever by L’Erin Ogle”
Standstill by Lida Papasokrati
Rain is pounding on the cobblestones of Place Luxembourg as people cluster to the bars around the square for an after work drink. Colorful umbrellas alternate with newspapers hastily turned into makeshift headgear and the occasional “Merde!” can be heard when a passing car splashes water on a pedestrian.
Through Amazed Eyes by Leila Allison
It’s three feet farther to hell from New Town Bridge. The city recently installed an eighteen-inch “safety” extension to the pedestrian rail. Since it opened in 1978, at least twenty persons have jumped off the ugly gray span and found death waiting two-hundred feet below in the beckoning Philo Bay Narrows. Northern seas swiftly kill the pain; and when that comforting certainty outweighs the threat of damnation, I don’t see another foot and a half up, and down, getting in the way.
An Engagement by Michael Hyde
The scene is set on the top floor of an old greystone apartment in Chicago’s North Side, the windows of which look out to a black Lake Michigan. Two plates sit on a pub table. One is cleaned and on the other half a pasta portion remains. The diners have taken the wine to the couch, where they are presently reposed; John with his feet up on the coffee table, Lauren with her legs across his lap, her head on a pillow on the far side. Sinatra plays faintly from a speaker, about the same volume as the crackling fire across them. John reads and Lauren thinks. But then….
From His Perspective by Lisa Keeble
“Have we got any biscuits? I’m feeling a bit peckish”
“You’re not peckish, you’ve only just had lunch. You’re just bored; you know you don’t like it when it’s too quiet in the factory”
literally stories 