Category: Short Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Julia’s End by Hugh Cron – Warning – Strong Adult Content Of A Sexual Nature

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Foreword:

This is one of two stories that I’ve been given free gratis with. I really do appreciate that and that is why I wanted to explain why I chose this one.

I was playing around, for so many reasons, with changed perceptions and this is what I came up with.

My fellow editors felt the content was too strong but it had to be for what I was going for. I wanted to see if I could alter a reader’s sympathies and to do that I needed the situation to be so abhorrent that they would need a real change of heart.

I wondered if we always fall down on one side or another with our sympathies or were there situations where, until all was revealed, our initial gut feelings may not be relied on and would be changed not just dramatically but more than once.

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Short Fiction

Week 290 – Angry Writing, ‘Interest’ Is Taking The Piss And A Terrible Link Between Sunken Ships And Kitchen Utensils.

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I was wondering this week when people write.

Do you need to be in a specific state of mind?

Do you need to be happy?

Do you need to be in tune with the type of story that you are writing?

I’m not sure but I do think that if I’ve some emotion going through me then I’m able to put something on paper.

Continue reading “Week 290 – Angry Writing, ‘Interest’ Is Taking The Piss And A Terrible Link Between Sunken Ships And Kitchen Utensils.” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Friday Night by Hugh Cron – Warning – Very Strong Adult Content.

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Foreword: This is a story that I have been given the go ahead with even though it was a split decision and wasn’t accepted as a majority. I am very grateful.

I wanted to explain where this came from. I think this is the best example I have of a state of mind dictating a story. Writing is therapeutic. To go somewhere you would never tread yourself is as liberating as you can get. I’ve always thought when life really gets to you, do something horrific on a sheet of paper. Challenge yourself to write a character that has no redeeming qualities what-so-ever.

You can end up with something dark, ‘passionate’ and an MC that you’ve absolutely no empathy for.

…And its fun to worry those who want to analyse the writer more than the story!

(Last Warning – Very strong language and distasteful adult content / attitude. Do not read if you are liable to be offended.)

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Short Fiction, Writing

Week 289 – Shite Gold, Renee And Patrick Were Under Contract And Ethical Journalism: A Contradiction In Terms.

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It won’t be long until our 300th post.

Any of you who have been reading those anniversary ones will know that we normally have a section on memorable lines. This year will be no different.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Turtle Beach by Paul Blaney

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The first inkling Frank had of the change that would overtake him came on the drive down. He was in the back seat, his hip aching from hours on the Interstate, listening to a radio show about snow geese migrating from the Arctic, big flocks miles high but always along the same route: migration corridors they called them. And all of a sudden Frank was up there flying among them, mile after airy mile in unison. Who knows how long it lasted before Kathy turned and spoke to him, words he didn’t catch but that startled him back down, into his body? He shook his head, a horse throwing off a fly; he was a practical man, not given to daydreaming. ‘How long till lunch?’ he asked Kathy who asked Tom who wanted to get another hundred miles at least.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Trigger by Doug Hawley

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Leila has been spending so much time down in the dungeons of LS Towers we are worried that she might be sleeping down there. Not to worry, we’ll make sure she has plenty to eat and drink. This week she has nominated a piece by an old friend of the site – this is what she said:

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 288 – Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychyrndrobwillantysiliogogogoch, Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia And Pneumonoultramicroscopicsicicovolcanoconiosis.

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(Diane, I’m sure you are bored into distraction by my predictable childishness!!)

Well here we are at Week 288.

On last weeks post, I promised Diane that I would cut the title down to four words.

I, being a total nipple end had a look at the longest word in the English language and I found it to be the chemical name for a Super Protein called Titin at around one hundred and ninety thousand letters. What a piece of nonsense, surely there has to be an alternative, could I suggest we just use Titin. Who the fuck would give up the three hours of their life that would be needed to say it?

Continue reading “Week 288 – Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychyrndrobwillantysiliogogogoch, Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia And Pneumonoultramicroscopicsicicovolcanoconiosis.” →

Short Fiction

The Traveling Circus by Adam Dorsheimer

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Looking back on my youth is a strange and depressing rush of hospitals and doctor’s offices. Even my bedroom, with what little time I spent there, was a bare, clinical space, with untextured white walls broken up only by the odd poster and my calendar that I kept long after its year had passed. It was weather-themed; each new month brought new storms and natural disasters, lightning bolts and tornadoes and the like. But on the first of November, I turned the page to find something different. The photograph showed a black lake, pieces of ice strewn around, and up above there were these magical green trails etched into the sky. This gorgeous respite from the storms of the previous months had a powerful effect on me, and by the time the month was over and I had to turn the page to see yet another bolt of lightning I felt a kind of sadness, a longing for it to be November forever, if only just to see those northern lights.

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All Stories, Short Fiction

Week 287 – Truly, Utterly, Unbelievably Improving Just Like Booze Does To Self-Belief, There’s Nothing Worse Than The Taste Of A Rancid Sausage And Bastards Who Are Never An Exception.

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Well here we are at Week 287.

I had a look at the historical events of this week.

I see that Major Boaby Ross set fire to Washington. That wasn’t very nice and was a bit hypercritical. The British are still burning effigies of Mr Fawkes for trying to do the same sort of thing just over two hundred years earlier.

Continue reading “Week 287 – Truly, Utterly, Unbelievably Improving Just Like Booze Does To Self-Belief, There’s Nothing Worse Than The Taste Of A Rancid Sausage And Bastards Who Are Never An Exception.” →