Ms Allison has revisited an old story by one of the site’s most prolific writers and we think it’s wonderful to see this having a new crack of the whip. Swan River Daisy is the story that she has pulled from the dusty archives and this is what she said.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Swan River Daisy by Tom Sheehan”
As this is our Four Year Celebration, we will do the reviews first and then we have a wee spiel each for your entertainment and enlightenment. That’ll cover Diane and Nik, I’ll just write my usual pish!
Her name is Kristy or Kristal or Kelly, I’m not sure which, so I just call her sweetheart and babe and she never seems to mind. She’s too busy talking about her ex-boyfriend anyway, a guy who’s still her boss at work.
A Few Rings of Hell’s Bell Ago
The little god of unfounded happiness at an unlikely place seemed to be smiling on me. I was up 500,000 bit-pesos at the online Uruguayan poker site, and someone had finally restocked the Snax Machine in the lobby with chili-cheese Fritos. Yes, the good guys were winning, and no one was supervising my activities. I fondly recall whistling “Dance Ten; Looks Three” from A Chorus Line, prior to carb-loading for that long elevator ride back to my office, deep in the bowels of the Smiling Face of Darkness.
Continue reading “Glooning the Chartreuse Lemon by Leila Allison”
Bang! It went. Bang! Bang! Bang! A whole series of bangs, like gunshots at a shooting range, echoes coming atop one another, full of alarm and the awful promise of consequence. Eleven-year old George Pearl, twelve before you’d know it, his birthday but an hour or so away, ducked his head as he walked down the dark center road of Riverside Cemetery. Shadows of stones moved around him, angular blocks of darkness set upon darkness, the ground and the shadows giving up other noises steeped with night and night things. Sounds swelled like thermals, unseen but known, catching up what was loose in the air, broadcasting strange messages that he could identify in a split second … fear, catastrophe, disaster, strange hands reaching to touch his backside, strange sounds at his ears. All around were strange things that boomed or blasted or bellowed in the night.
Continue reading “A Cryptic Night for Halloween by Tom Sheehan “
“The planning of a new chair can take much longer than the actual construction,” Shinji said as he laid out his sketches. “No other kind of furniture has a purer function.”
Around the table stood three rows of sixteen year-olds dressed like old men in once-white shirts with the school crest on the pocket, ill-fitted black trousers with frayed hems, and green sandals. They jostled and pushed and muttered insults at one another.
Leila has sent in another Reruns choice, this time with a little reminiscence of her own. He Died was, I believe, the first story that we published of Ms Herting and this is what Leila Allison said: Continue reading “Literally Reruns – He Died by A. Elizabeth Herting.”
Here we are at Week 199
Next week will be our four year anniversary but more on that next week.
I wrote some stories this week. Well I wrote two and tidied one that had been lying about for a while and I hadn’t got round to editing it.
Continue reading “Week 199 – Dwindling, A Bloody Hole And Wanting To Be Quoted”
The last time Christine-Ann Corbin wore a dress was two months ago when she turned twelve. Her parents had a small birthday party and celebrated with a few friends and neighbors. The conversation quickly turned to the unrest in Europe.
literally stories 