Lucy kept an eye on the man at the corner table. He’d glance at the front door each time it opened and then return his gaze to a book whose pages he rarely turned. He waited for someone.
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Category: Short Fiction
Week 579: Further Adventures in Urban Wildlife
(Sir Andy Hisster)
Due to his departure to the green fields of the PAWS’ center located about a half hour north of here, this is the first spring in which Andy Hisster (The Gray fella above this paragraph) does not rule (in person) the courtyard of my building in what feels like ten years. My uncertainty of the year is because I can not remember the moment I meet any Feral Cat, they just appear, magically, and it feels as though they have always been.
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Literally Reruns: Bingo by Hugh Cron
Oh my oh my, after reading Bingo, I wondered what kind of father our beloved Hugh Cron would be. Actually, I think he would be an excellent parent because he would never bullshit his kids about Santa, organized religion or “The Farm” where pets go, mysteriously, all of a sudden while the child is in school. “Sparky decided he will be happy, there, at The Farm,” Papa said, wiping his eyes due to a sudden recurrence of his “allergies.”
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Week 578 – Clock Hanging, Don’t Buy Balm And The Chief Is A Legend.
Week number 578 is here.
Another week gone, another week I thank my lucky stars for Literally Stories!! It keeps me sane!!
We’ve been getting a lot of humour submissions lately so I’d like to revisit this topic. I apologise if you have read something like this before.
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By The Colour of Our Coat Shall You Know Us By J.S. Watts
Where to begin? ‘Where’ being the significant word.
Some places seem to have been created to be a home for the disconcerting and unknowable. Dartmoor was the natural petri dish for The Hound of the Baskervilles. It is so… elemental. The dirty, dark and narrow alleys of Victorian London’s East End spawned Brother Jack, whoever he was, or might still be. But other places are so mundane you can’t imagine anything beyond the norm happening there.
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Week 577: Can’t Teach a Shark to Kill Tofu
(Elliott the Header Pigeon is on vacation this week. PDQ Peety is filling in and is also filling himself with PDQ Pilsner.)
Introduction
I again found myself undertaking the idea of the End of Humankind. Which is not to be confused with the End of the World because that will happen a few billion years from now when the sun dies, at which time it will greatly expand and obliterate everything on out to Jupiter. Like the rabid cur shot dead by Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird a dead sun is still a dangerous sun.
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Literally Reruns: Artificial Love by L’Erin Ogle
Of all the writers who have appeared on the site, L’Erin Ogle is the one whose name I most expect to turn up on the list of famous writers. She is not a commercial type of writer, but she is just plain so damn good that you’d think that even the doofs who control the money would notice her. But maybe it is for the best that she continues to make her way under her own control and at her own speed.
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Week 576 – Pretty Colours, Being Alert And An Attempt At Misdirection.
Hello there folks and folkessess. Here we go again and are at Week 576.
Before I start I need to warn you that there is a new virus doing the rounds. If you get it, don’t go to A&E. With this ‘Peekaboo Virus’ go to ICU.
I apologise for that and I despise myself for admitting that it did make me smile. (Mr Cowan once again.)
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Flowers for Esma by Christopher Ananias
In a war-torn region of the Balkans. Esma weaved around the fly-blown corpse, hand-flipped out. Like she was a model on the runway. The other hand carried a bouquet of blue and yellow wildflowers held up to her face. She breathed in the fragrance like perfumed death.
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Writers Read – Travels With Charley – an essay by Leila
Travels With Charley: In Search of America (1962)
By John Steinbeck
In late September 1960 John Steinbeck and a French Poodle named Charley loaded a vehicle called “Rocinante” with a sizable amount of liquor and went on a road trip to discover America. Two years later the account was published to wild success. I happened to find a copy (which I later gave to a friend) of a first edition of the book at the local St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store about twenty-five years ago.
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