This is an account of a beguiling little puzzle, beguiling to me at any rate.. All the facts known to myself are set out below. A possible explanation is then offered. I would very much welcome any alternative solutions that suggest themselves to LS readers.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – The Deserted Painting by Michael Bloor”
Well this is a bit of a different piece – but that’s what the Whatever post is all about. Ladles and Jellypoons we give you an essay by Geraint Jonathan.
A pioneer in the use of manacles, Richard Topcliffe’s imagination knew bounds, if you’ll not forgive my saying so. He was a man who lived and breathed his work – going so far as to design his very own ‘torture-machine’, compared with which, in his own words, “the rack is mere child’s play.”
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever: Not Quite the National Treasure by Geraint Jonathan”
Adam is one of our more unusual writers. Since very early in the history of LS, November 2015 he has sent us quirky pieces often accompanied by his very individual art. He is a delight to interact with and is obviously a shoo in for an author interview and that treat is to come. However, one of the questions has also spawned this memoir, which was too good to turn down. And so please enjoy a bonus, Adam Kluger.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – Adam Kluger”
Foreword
In honor of Remembrance Day (Veteran’s Day in America), and to honor those who served, currently serve and to those who gave all, we present a reworking of a story by Tom Sheehan first published in November 2017. Tom served in Korea and knows as much about the suffering of war, and its after-effects, as much as anyone.
Since it is an altered version, we will forgo the usual link and present the work right here and now.
All the best to the veterans and those who appreciate their sacrifices.
Diane, Hugh, Leila–Eds. Literally Stories
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Continue reading “Literally Reruns – A Boy Once Known by Tom Sheehan “
This week’s Whatever is a fascinating work that was originally submitted as fiction (in truth Dale told us that it was a non-fiction piece that he had ‘tweaked’) but when we read it we knew immediately where it belonged. An enthralling story about abortive attempts at a pilgrimage. A super read. We give you:-
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – Visiting Bill Burroughs by Dale Williams Barrigar”
Another Sunday treat in the form of an essay from the keyboard of Mick Bloor. Mick is so knowledgeable and this comes through in his stories which flow beautifully and record the passing of time in an easy to read and lyrical form.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever: The Last Man on the Island by Mick Bloor”
Anyone who has been around the site for any time at all will be more than aware of the genius that is Tom Sheehan. His work is always beautifully written and even when we have rejected stories it has mostly been because there is so much of his work and he could truly have a site dedicated to him alone. Sometimes a piece of his writing comes along and it is just so lovely to read that we need to share it. This is such a piece, we think.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever – Movie on a Sunday Afternoon by Tom Sheehan”
Poetry is one of those things that seems to divide readers into quite different camps. I am a poet and a poetry lover but fully understand how other people just don’t ‘get it’. This piece, though it’s about a poet is not altogether about poetry. Mick Bloor shows yet again what a knowledgeable and well read writer he is. Excellent stuff.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever by Mick Bloor”
Today’s treat is from an author who has already been published by us so do check out her back catalogue. We thought this piece would speak to many of us. That niggle that you know is unreasonable but by gum you can’t let it go. Amusing but very well observed. We give you In a Word – enjoy
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In a Word by Karen Uttien
This morning, I watched a woman walk towards me. By the time she reached me, I had assessed her in one word. Privileged.
Gold Gucci sandals complimented the little black dress, swaying elegantly just above her knee. Large fashionable sunglasses accentuated glossy red lips. Long dark hair rolled playfully down her back. Golden sun-bronzed skin – a recent trip on a private yacht no doubt.
As she walked past, Chanel No. 5 overwhelmed me. Consuming me all the way home. So much so, by the time I got there, I had reassessed the woman entirely.
Her hair, although beautiful, was rather too long. Tired. Her skin was over-baked. Withering. Her pouty lips, somewhat sulky. And the sunglasses – I suspected were masking a congregation.
Yes. This once highly desired woman, was hanging on for dear life. In a word. Madonna.
Now, you realise this assessment is probably not true. No. But it does tell a truth; no one knows how others see you. Which brings me to this little story …
*
It was my friend’s 40th birthday. A best friend. Let’s call her Jenny.
There was me and Jenny. Her other three best friends, and our partners. So, 10 of us.
Jenny’s a bit flash. And very generous. A superb combination.
She hired a room on the top floor in a very fancy restaurant.
We were greeted by Don Perignon and sculptured canapes. Then glided to our seats. Chairs pulled out. Napkins draped. Swarovski filled with sparkling from the Nile itself.
There were somewhere between six and way-too-many delectable courses, each paired with our precious chef’s personally selected wines.
The sheer privilege, my new dress, the altitude, and Don – all attributed equally to my giddy happiness. The entire room now reflecting nothing less than a woozy beehive overflowing with honey.
Then, just as I thought I might explode with glee, came the speech.
‘… I have thought of one word to describe each of you,’ Jenny said, pointing. ‘You. And you. And you! What each of you are to me. My. Dear. Dear. Friends.’
She began on her right.
Inspiring. Loyal. Thoughtful. Fun. Adventurous …
Now – as I said earlier – I know one can’t see how others see you but, when Jenny and I exchange our fond twenty-five-year friendship smile, I was not expecting –
‘Dependable!’ I yelped.
The night went on and my volatile happiness wafted into a small headache.
We said our good-byes and clambered into a taxi.
As we drove along the highway, a giant billboard illuminated the skyline shouting … DEPENDABLE DRYCLEANERS!! I nodded sadly, and fell asleep.
*
That was nearly ten years ago. I still bring it up. Still throw it out to new audiences for discussion. Most agree it is an excellent trait … on a resume. And everyone most certainly would use a dependable drycleaner.
I have brought it up with Jenny. Several times. She stands by it. I should let it go, but …
The last time I felt so aggrieved – I was six. We were to perform Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Swineherd” for our end-of-year panto and, without doubt, I would be the princess.
‘But princesses don’t wear pink jumpsuits and curly tails,’ I explained to stupid Mrs Elliot.
For this fine Sunday we present two little pieces written by our own Diane M. Dickson. One is an article the other is one of those odds and ends tales best suited for this feature in its own indefinable little way.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever: A Double Shot of Diane M. Dickson”
literally stories 