Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Perry by Dianne Willems

Dianne Willems’ Perry begins as a daydream that edges in and out of a nightmare reality, and ultimately ends with the ultimate sacrifice. It is a tragedy because life is determined to be a black comedy. Life is loaded with easily discouraged, jaded Superheroes, but very few Perrys. The piece ends the only way it could, yet you never see it coming.

Q: Do you believe that the well meaning You Are Special message, without explaining how everyone can be special, without negating the definition, drives young minds into hopelessness almost as effectively as a poor home life?

Q: I see something Christlike about the Parrot, how his martyrdom brought the flabby heroes back into shape. Do you agree?

Leila

Dianne’s responses

Q: Do you believe that the well meaning You Are Special message, without explaining how everyone can be special, without negating the definition, drives young minds into hopelessness almost as effectively as a poor home life?

Q1: I am less familiar with the ‘You Are Special’ message (I think it’s a cultural thing, here in the Netherlands there’s more of a calvinistic attitude), but I have some thoughts about the ambitious ‘aim for the stars’/’be the best’ message some people try to install in their children. However, regarding the Parrot, I think he is more about trying to gain some control over a chaotic life. And being a hero, because his family did the exact opposite of installing in him the ‘aim for the stars’ OR ‘you are special’ attitude. So he tried extra hard, regardless of cost, to be someone special. 

Q: I see something Christlike about the Parrot, how his martyrdom brought the flabby heroes back into shape. Do you agree?

Q2: Having grown up in an almost completely atheist environment I haven’t nearly enough knowledge about Jesus to have drawn this parallel. However, I think the question should be, did the Parrot bring the flabby heroes back into shape? Or was that one last desperate fantasy as he lay dying? 

Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 400 – 400 Weeks, Halloween And A Hospital Visit.

Here we are at Week 400. I’m quite sure I’ll use that number a few times throughout this post.

I honestly can’t believe that we’ve reached this amount of weeks of publication!

It’s just a pity that the hundreds and the anniversary don’t tie in, I think it did on our second year but then dates and weeks and holidays buggered everything up. Our 8th year anniversary will be in a few week’s time, Week 403 on the 19th November.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – the Bee by Rebecca Moretti.

Although justice usually arrives pretty damn late, it can show via any avatar. For the evil willingly participated in by Lazlo Lachman, there is no suitable punishment. For crimes against humanity, even hell feels insufficient. So, maybe causing him to go mad, to shove him into himself with only a buzz for input is as good a penalty as any. Such is the soul of The Bee by Rebecca Moretti.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Horror, Humour, Short Fiction

Week 399: A Tribute to Dark and Stormy Knights and Another Week That Is

As we get closer to Halloween I find myself thinking of the darker side of the human heart. But instead of making a list of horror films and actors (which I have done before), I would like to salute the Evil Bad Guys* of Film and TV, for they are the ones who make stuff worth watching. (I use the word “Guys” in the unisex form–for I do not care for “Gals.”)

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Revolving Doors by Sharon Frame Gay

Something got in the way should apply only to happiness. I’d rather be a happy peasant than a genuinely depressed monarch. So in that regard it doesn’t matter if you are working the door or have it held open for you.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Week 398: Positive Thinking; The Week In Rocktober and Sing, Little One, Sing Like the Wind

Positive Thinking

We will celebrate our eighth anniversary next month. Anniversaries and birthdays usually make me queasy because I view each as another item to be checked off a Great To Do List whose final task is “Die.” But I will allow that there is maybe, perhaps, seemingly and possibly an element in my personality that could be improved by wise advice, Vitamin Jesus or even a sunnier attitude brought about by better chemistry.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Week 397 – Winging It, Truss’s Truss And I Didn’t Have Time To Look At Religion.

I never plan these. I never know what I’m going to write. I will look up a reference if for some reason one comes to me but I don’t start out with a plan.

Sometimes there are some things that happen on the site or in the news that I make a mental note to saying something. (Today is an example as I knew that there was something!!)

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All Stories, Fantasy, Humour, Romance, Short Fiction

The Caretaker’s Cottage by Leila Allison

-Prologue-

Ineffable Is As Ineffable Does

With a peaked roof topped by a small brass eagle, the “Caretaker’s Cottage” in New Town Cemetery is a seven-by-nine rectangle that stands long side up. A few years back the City of Charleston had money left over in the Parks Department budget; two thousand dollars was allotted for the creation of ten incomprehensibly cheap signs to mark various “historical sites” throughout town. It was one of those mystifying expenditures that governments make to discourage the expectation of competence. One of the signs stands in front of the rectangle. It says: “Former Caretaker’s Cottage.”

Outside being the ancestral home to untold generations of Grey Squirrels, the building is a tool shed added decades after the cemetery was founded in 1902. New Town did have a live-in caretaker once, but he dwelled in a long since razed house that stood at the foot of the hill in which the cemetery is seated. But the extremely typical Charleston city employee tasked with the sign job had to put something on the one set aside for the cemetery–so she pulled a fiction from where the sun never rises and literally engaged a sign maker (her fiance–who reaped a thousand percent profit). In fact, nine of the ten signs placed throughout Charleston are similarly procured fictions–with the other being only true about Hartsville, Tennessee–the boyfriend sign maker’s hometown.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns -Retinitis Pigmentosa by Tobias Haglund

Right now it is Tuesday, 31 May 2022, 1:51 A.M. PDT in the Puget Sound region in the U.S.A. Due to some slow typing, errors and the run of time itself it is now 1:54, but all the other conditions are the same. Several months will pass before this is read on a Sunday morning. And, as always, people such as I, will operate on the assumption that the world will still be here and everyone we know is still in it in the relatively near future.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Week 396: Stumbling Leaves; Another Week That Is; Autumnal Vexations

I like fall, but I avoid saying “I like autumn.” I went to school with a girl with that name and hated her. I wouldn’t want the little god whose job it is to check up on the likes and dislikes of people like me to get confused. So, to be clear, I like autumn, but not the Autumn I knew in seventh grade.

But there are things about fall I can do without; for instance, grownups who wear “onesies,” and those who get as excited as a three-year-old seeing Santa for the first time when the subject is “pumpkin spice.” Usually these people are one and the same. I will hear no defense for normal adults who wear onesies with little fire trucks and/or race cars, Bunnies, Unicorns, Cows, Green Aliens and Sea “Horseys” on them and must tell me about it. What you do at home is your own business, but unless you want me to wonder if you wear a “dype-dype” and rubber panties to bed, don’t bring it up, especially if I am eating.

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