The two rather dishevelled men walked up the street. They weren’t very big, they weren’t very handsome. They certainly weren’t very clever. Normally fate would decide that due to these short-comings they would have been given very interesting characters or gracious manners. But no! Not these two, they were both arseholes.
Continue reading “Blood And Bigotry by Hugh Cron – Adult Content”
“’Don’t move’? ‘Stay put’? Best mark thy lollipop-hole, Mouthy Munchkin, lest I break a ruby slipper off in your—”
Last Words, Wicked Witch of the East (Harriet Shelby’s Epitaph)
Continue reading “The Crossed Star of Bethlehem by Irene Allison”
‘I was found with a waitress in a cocktail bar… That much is true.’
Continue reading “Phil’s Lament by Hugh Cron – Adult Content”
There may be organizations more useless in the universe than my union, but I’m at a loss to name one. Just this afternoon I was seated at the wrong side of my rep’s desk; and although the gent eventually professed sympathy for my plight, I could tell from his er-ing and hmmm-ing, uh-ing and you-don’t-saying, that when it came to fixing a grievance, he’d be as effective as a chimpanzee pitted against Einstein in an equation smack-down at Math Camp.
Continue reading “The Amalgamated Union of Pennames and Imaginary Friends by Leila Allison”
Mary closed the door behind her, the third chime from the grandfather clock was just a memory from her hall. She walked down the front path into the darkness. It was cold, so cold. Her gloved hand held them tightly; the reason for her torment.
Continue reading “An Easy Choice to Make by Hugh Cron – Adult Content”
Who suggested it is anyone’s guess. What matters is that on a Wednesday morning at 10:21AM I was trawling the local sex shops with three female friends and marvelling how a few mounds of rubber could create sexual tension where there was previously none.
Continue reading “The Adventurous Woodsman by Dave Louden – Strong Adult Content”
That’s new. I sit in front of the green, perched on the verge. Broken car pulled up behind me, half jacked, tyre removed but not replaced. Puncture. Should’ve bought that new spare. Little white balls float through the air like gulls, wobble in the breeze before landing on the trimmed grass. They pick up the flag, one hits and the other hits and the last hits. They put the flag back and move on. More balls sail across the sky, more flags are hoisted.
and you won’t tell him will you? she said
She bought a maternity t-shirt that said “Friends Don’t Count Chromosomes,” and she wore it like we were getting just what we’d hoped for. I spent my time praying that the test had been wrong. I listened to Imagine and added my own verses “Imagine all the people, living without disease…”
This one’s for you, Skink, this solid and remarkable dream I had one night, just last week, still haunting me in this, my 88th year on the planet. It was so real I believe it really happened in a place so near us, we can’t see it, or so far away from us, we’ll never get to see it for ourselves, even though we know it inside and out, upside and down, from left to right, and all the in-betweens, the hereabouts that may occupy more than one place in this universe.
Brandt Colson silently watched his frenetic daughter as she flitted from room to room in her usual style, talking about ten different things at once and fussing over details and generally majoring in the minor. Brandt noticed the bored and frowning, mostly grown boy, his grandson, as he stood at the front door leaning against the wall. The boy took no pains to hide his sullen, brooding, teenage impatience.
She stopped flying around the room and paused in front of the chair. Brandt looked up. “Plenty to eat and all laid out. Your list is on the counter. Sure you feel up to it, Dad?”
“Feel fine.” He replied. The stroke was jumbled memory now.
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