Short Fiction

This Way to the Warden’s Office by A.V. Pankov

The colony looked like it would sink into the bog of permafrost underneath it but it never did. It towered over a carpet of arctic lichens and scrubland like an apparition of a place imprinted on time and existence, the view around it never changed. The steel fence coiled around the brick edifice like a drunken domino line of panels knocked and dented askew and topped with a rattle of barbed wire. And the place spoke none of its inhumane ordeals.

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All Stories, Fantasy, Humour, Short Fiction

billigitmania by Leila Allison

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It’s hard to ignore five shadows cast on your desk by as many hovering beings outside the window. I do not know if there is an achievable degree of determination to successfully ignore such a situation; if so, it lies beyond my level of sticktoitiveness.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, Short Fiction, Writing

Week 454: The Sensitive Side of Evil and One, No, Make That Three Special Announcements

Sensitive Side

I believe that there should never be violence of any kind directed at a child. But that presents a problem. There’s neither intelligent discourse nor diplomatic give and take with a two-year-old individual who considers it perfectly reasonable to shit her pants rather than heading to the bathroom while something she wants to watch is on TV. You cannot spank this person (not that you’d want to) nor can you take any disciplinary action that someone out there somewhere won’t find objectionable.

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All Stories, Short Fiction

Bonus by Hugh Cron (Warning – Adult Content.)

Jimmy shut his curtains.

“That’s the Polis. Bitch must’ve got mail.”

“Whit?”

“Think about it Al, the only way that staff come near the rooms at this time is if they’re handing out our letters!

…I bet you it was shite too! They fuckin’ found her cause of some shite letter.”

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – When Planet’s Miss by Doug Hawley

here we are just past October, or, Rocktober, as some of us like to call it. There’s something wonderfully reflective about that month (perhaps enhanced with an abundance of mini Three Musketeer Bars); and in such a mood I go all the way back to the Summer of 2016 for this Rocktober‘s rerun.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 453 – FIENDALS (The spelling is for you Gwen), Eric Is A Legend And I Should Have Mentioned A Tattie Scone.

I did the Scottish translation thing a few weeks back and I had forgot to add in a certain phrase.

With these, some have some logic. For example,

‘Did you bring a piece’

Some of our friends in America would probably think we were asking if you had brought a gun, but no. Nothing could be farther from the truth. You see ‘A piece’ is actually a packed-lunch or a sandwich. The logic part is it comes from ‘A piece of bread and butter / cheese / jam / cheese and jam (A hidden delight I have mentioned before. It must be a red jam and it is even more delicious if the bread is toasted.)

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Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Week 452: It’s All a Conspiracy; The Real Things and X Marks the File

The sixtieth anniversary of The Kennedy Assassination is rapidly approaching. It also marks the sixtieth anniversary of my memory because 22 November 1963 is the first certain date I remember (although I hold what are most likely older visions). It is also the sixtieth anniversary of the conspiracy theories that have dogged the event since.

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Horror, Short Fiction

Dead and Gone: A Reckoning by Ashley Laughlin

The night had muted the crickets and, as if the fluttering of their filmy, prehistoric wings brought the heat down, the air had cooled into the namesake fog of these Smoky Mountains. The clouds moved into the darkness, rolling down Evelyn’s tongue into her throat, joining the vast, black distances between the flickering bulbs of a far-off holler and the lantern light cocooning her as she worked.

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Fantasy, Humour, Short Fiction

Hobnob Standard by Leila Allison

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Famous fantasy realms are ridiculously wealthy– them with their pool parties and scantily clad underage lawsuits in waiting. But for every emerald high rise in Oz there’s a dozen impoverished lands of make believe held together by duct tape and the wages of mental illness. My realm of Saragun Springs is as threadbare and stone soup as it gets, but that might be a-changing. Yes, prosperity and the torpedoing of what little charm we have may be just around the corner. Actually, it is up in the sky–and to paraphrase Dickie Plantagenet, we aim to pluck it down.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 451 – Marvin / Scott – Which One Deserves The Plaudits, RETIRE!! – JUST FUCKING RETIRE!! And Rickie Bell’s Karaoke Extravaganza!

Well here we go again and by fuck this might be random.

I loved when a kid who I worked with in the hostels used that word in a way that I had never heard.

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