Doug Hawley has been busy publishing work online for the past few years, including, happily with us. We are happy to share his often curmudgeonly POV, which is always tempered with amusement and is never caustic; he also presents his own original point of view that sometimes irks those who demand conventional writing. So it goes with Doug’s The Assistant.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – The Assistant by Douglas Hawley”
Here we are at Week 554!
Okay, this may be a bit strong, but if any fucker tries to pull the wool over our eyes with some sort of AI, all I can say is I hope that you drown in the mess of your own pustules exploding!!!
Continue reading “Week 554 – Established Beasts, Superb Versions And Rest For Mickey Pearce.”
It all happened once upon a time about, oh, two and a half years from now. It was a warm summer morning, a Saturday it was, in the backyard of an ordinary house on an ordinary street in a most ordinary town, Sandusky, Ohio to be precise. But that’s all that was ordinary about it; the little girl certainly wasn’t. And as for the stranger… well, he was aptly named.
Continue reading “One Hellava Morning By John Doble”
Emmaline arrives back in Michigan for her mother’s funeral to discover the airline has lost her luggage. Through the fog of her grief, she makes it to a Target, which used to be the Dollar Store, which used to be the bike shop that her brother worked at for a summer. She would walk by while running errands for her father’s flower store, which is now a Starbucks. The cemetery behind her old house is still there, but people must buy their bouquets from the Target now.
Continue reading “More Disco Than Death by Haley DiRenzo”
The young lady in the second image is “Peerless Perstephanie the Sunshine Squirrel of Twirl.” Her friends call her Percy. She holds the record for being the “spinniest” living creature known to Rodent-kind, and she is currently in training to break the record of fastest spinning object. (This is why she appears to be “shimmering”; or, perhaps, a shaky hand holding the phone contributed to the effect.)
Continue reading “Week 553: Sunshine Squirrel v. Pulsar”
Today we open the Crate of Shame and expose the first story published on the site by Irene Leila Allison (there’s a story behind the name change, but it is dull and not worth further mention). Now that it is out there’s little that can be done but deal with it and hope it eventually crawls back into its lair.
Continue reading “Literally Rerun – It Happens Every Other Sunday By Irene Allison (Leila)”
Week 552
I think I learned something this week that surprised me.
…Should that be ‘learnt’?? I always get those two mixed up.
I was made aware that it’s only British folks who salute a lone Magpie.
Is that correct??
Continue reading “Week 552 – A Black And White Thief, A Couple Of Questions And Orange Juice.”
The city of Nodding had built the eight bullet trains in case the day of the bomb ever came, and when the day did come, to the horror of all, Jennings was at Pet Smart to buy dog food.
Continue reading “A Dog Named Job by Peter Biles”
Tom Sheehan has written in every possible genre over his seventy year and counting career as a writer. And sometimes, as with today’s story, The Ghosts at Horseshoe Creek, he will blend two together.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Tom Sheehan”
I was riding the bus last week when I was attacked by a MWCM, which stands for “Misty Water Colored Memory” (lifted from that gooey Barb song she sang before she got the perm that made her look like “Arnold Horshack” on Welcome Back Kotter–a dated reference but very true). As you have likely guessed MWCM is a sarcastic term. It defines an elderly concept in my “Ago” that is always attempting to change me into a sniveling old Shrew. We all have something like that inside (or will once fifty or so comes creeping), an ugsome, nettlesome something that (apparently) has invested heavily in old Shrew futures. I cannot kill mine but I can temporarily beat it to atoms by using my hard, old cold heart as a hammer. I often take satisfaction in imaginary acts of violence. They keep me balanced.
Continue reading “Week 551: The Attack of the MWCM; The Week That Was; A Belated Happy 80th to Debbie”
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