Category: Short Fiction

Short Fiction

Week 423: Tributes, An Easter Eve Recap, and the Book or the Film?

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A Weird Al Tribute Band Will Herald the End of Days

I do not know if it began with Elvis Impersonators or the Beatles, but I’ve noticed that there is a big business devoted to “tribute bands.” All the major groups have at least one, some have many. The Stones, Queen, Led Zeppelin, the Supremes and so on. And some are better at doing the songs than the original artist. The name of a tribute band is usually a song or a phrase associated with the adored object; stuff like “We Will Rock You” and “The Song Remains the Same.” The only difference I see between a tribute band and a cover band is the singular focus of the former.

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Short Fiction

‘Will They Remember Us?’ Little Ignaz Wonders by Antony Osgood

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‘Will they come this morning?’

The boy cannot see his older brother’s face in the gloom, and neither can his forgetful toy bear. On any given day, during each endless hour and restless night, the single candle they afford themselves silhouettes the pretence of confidence. It has become a circus puppet show they take turns to perform.

 ‘Not this morning.’

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Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Short Straw by Louisa Owens

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I selected this story by Louisa Owens as a rerun in 2020. Louisa intelligently and graciously answered my humble questions. But if episodes of The Beverly Hillbillies must be re-aired endlessly until Armeggedon, then perhaps it is just that a small good thing like Short Straw should appear on the site for a third time.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 422 – Flairs Had Flair, Delicious But Itchy And I Forgot About Dr Jones!

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Here we are at Week 422. I was thinking on doing a fashion section but reading this back and looking in the mirror, I needn’t bother!!

Clothes have always conspired against me.

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General Fiction, Short Fiction

Maintenance by Bryce Johle 

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Nelson was watching the fan wobbling from the dining room ceiling when he heard a gunshot somewhere in the distance. From the couch, the blades swayed and rattled unlike their original behavior upon moving in. Something he’d have to fix himself, no doubt.

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Short Fiction

Week 421: Sunday Will Never Be The Same

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Like Nature, Literally Stories abhors a vacuum. And like the Victorians, LS considers the occasional empty space left open on Sundays as scandalous as showing too much ankle before marriage, or opening a post with consecutive similes.

When the weekly Rerun became a monthly feature, we found ourselves a bit restless on the other three Sundays in the month (yes, I know some have five, but let’s jump off that bridge when we get to it). The Sunday Whatever, a collection of essays and odds and ends, was invented to take up a bit of the slack, yet along with the Rerun, only half the ankle was covered.

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Short Fiction

The Impossibility of Death by Tiffany Williams

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Who are these artists? I thought. If somebody wants to talk about the barriers we put up between ourselves and the abyss, they can say it with words, not with a dead shark. I saved that thought for the date debrief with Clara. I pictured how she’d reply, gently sarcastic, “I don’t think that’s really the idea, Christine. The world would have lost something if Van Gogh had just turned to the next bloke in the guinguette and said, “Bright out tonight”.”

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Short Fiction

Caves of the Gods, Heart of the Mountain by Tom Sheehan

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Puma-Dog, heavily burdened yet bound in belief, wondered about the inside of the mountain he was climbing, and the trail so old in the making that he could not begin to measure its age. Even the old chief and man of wisdom, One-Wing-Gone, told him the mountain was as old as the gods themselves. “They came as one before they became many,” he explained to Puma-Dog on the 13th celebration of all his moons. “One becomes many, to serve, to light the path, to push against darkness, to fill tribal history with heroes all going back to where they came from, from the Heart-of-the-Mountain, and to be served.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 420 – Sorry Sally But That Will Always Be Embarrassing, A Nun’s Pocket Of Foreskin And Supermarket Brain-Stormers Wanting Their Hidden Cake And Eating It! By Hugh Cron

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I have so many things floating about my head for this posting.

You may not have noticed but I do, in most of my posts, try and get in some writing context.

…We may need to come to that! And if I do, I’ll probably be dramatic!!

I ‘said’ to Leila early on this week, that I’d have to use the word ‘Aloof’, so in saying that, I have!

Was that a prompt?

Continue reading “Week 420 – Sorry Sally But That Will Always Be Embarrassing, A Nun’s Pocket Of Foreskin And Supermarket Brain-Stormers Wanting Their Hidden Cake And Eating It! By Hugh Cron” →