All Stories, Christmas Crime Week 2025, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Snow by Diane M Dickson

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Hello, I hope everyone is geared up and ready for the madness about to be released, though it’s probably already ongoing in most places. When the rellies get you down and you fancy a nice quiet sleep somewhere without turkey and stuffing perhaps an overnight in the local lockup appeals.

Anyway, I hope everyone has the exact sort of time that they want and I have to say thank you to my fellow editors for choosing this little piece to kick off the Christmas Crime Week. Strap in guys, things could get rocky – ho ho ho.

Snow by Diane M Dickson

Image: Jail cell with Christmas trimming chains on the bars by Angie at Studio Anjou

Short Fiction

Week 563 – It’s Amazing What Can Smoke, R.I.P Another Legend And All The Very Best To You All!!

gwencron

Another week closer to another year!

I’ve been thinking on smoking. I see that some programmes have trigger warnings. Or to be more precise, ‘A Nonsensical waste of words by fuckwits for fuckwits!’

There was an old panel game called ‘Joker In The Pack’ which is being repeated and you can hardly see the contestants due to the fog of smoke.

The amazing Comedienne, Dave Allen sat at his chair with a pack of cigarettes and a large whiskey. (I didn’t spell that incorrectly, he was a proud Irishman.)

‘The Wheeltappers And Shunters Club’ was filmed in a Working Mens Club and you could hardly see the audience!

Anything that was filmed early 2000 and beyond had smoking restrictions. Before that actors and / or their characters puffed away happily.

Continue reading “Week 563 – It’s Amazing What Can Smoke, R.I.P Another Legend And All The Very Best To You All!!” →
All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Hear, Hear by Karl Luntta

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As his hearing receded into the ethers, Frank’s days filled with numbing despair. He was going deaf, there was no denying it. He’d tried with what inner strength he possessed to stave it off, first by denying it completely like any sane person would do, then by telling himself he was only forty-two, things like this aren’t permanent at this age, of course it will pass.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Summer He Let Me Be General by Jacob Alexander Cohen

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The last time Dave showed up clean, he brought bagels and a joke.

“I had to use the car key to spread the cream cheese,” he said, holding it up like evidence. “Don’t worry. I wiped it on my pants first.”

It was early—gray morning light, barely six—and we sat on the hood of his rusting Civic in the driveway, steam rising from coffee in mismatched mugs. He wore a collared shirt that still had fold creases in it. His hair was damp. He looked awake in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Lives of Gadu Tom Phillips

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Everyone knew Gadu told lies. But  no matter. He was an artist, and while nobody believed he’d run a cocaine factory in the Bolivian rain forest whilst living with an uncontacted tribe or been chief stone mason during the reconstruction of Mostar’s Stari Most, his stories were hilarious.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Imaginary Friends by Gareth Vieira

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“What’s it like, being imaginary?” asked Lisa Hannigan.

She sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, gazing down at her imaginary friends, Sally and Qney, who mirrored her posture on the carpet below, knees tucked neatly beneath their chins.

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General Fiction

Maddie is a prison by Tatiana Samokhina

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1994

Butcher

Standing by the entrance to the butcher’s, Maddie can’t take her eyes off Victor. Her braids tight, her nose – a pointed nettle. On her freckled bronze cheeks, a glowing blush.

I watch the soft corners of her lips stretch, as if pulled, her mouth opening slightly, and from within, a laugh breaks free—an escapee (Maddie is a prison). It’s as plump as a balloon. As thin as silk thread. It inflates and bursts like bubble gum.

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All Stories, sunday whatever

Sunday Whatever–M an essay by Dale Williams Barrigar

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“One of the most unappreciated people in the world.”

– Joshua Logan on Marilyn Monroe

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be
absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” – Marilyn Monroe

“Will the wind ever remember / the names it has blown in the past?”

– Jimi Hendrix, “The Wind Cries Mary”

There’s something about Marilyn that can bring tears to the eyes like no other actress can do, and that fact does not arise from any one movie she made, whether good or bad, unless it’s The Misfits, her last, in which she is truly brilliant as a performer; she flowers and blooms into a new “her” in that film, especially in a few scenes.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, Short Fiction

562- Remembering a Wonderful Friend and Some Goofiness Regarding Genre

ireneallison12

A Friend

Dear Readers

Before we start this week’s silliness, I must relate the news of the passing of Tom Sheehan, who died 16 October, at age 97. Tom holds the site record of 228 stories. He and I coincidentally debuted on LS in August 2015, and Tom nearly doubled my output in less time, even though he was thirty-one years my senior. I doubt anyone will catch him.

But more importantly, Tom was a fine human being: A husband, father, grandfather, historian of Saugus, Massachusetts and a veteran of the Korean War. It is not my object to create sadness because 97 is a damn good run and Tom was still writing till the end. His final submission, an acceptance, of course, The Decoration occurred this past spring.

We will be running a far more fitting tribute to our friend in times ahead, so please keep an eye open. 

Leila, Diane, Hugh

Genre

I am not powerfully educated nor will my pride allow me to google every little mystery, but I feel that I have a fairly clear-minded grasp of genre.

I hear the word and Western, Science Fiction, Fantasy (not just impossible S.F.), Crime (or CMT), Mystery and so on pop into mind. In that regard “genre” is a useful list of things, and I highly approve of lists.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction

 Unlucky by Gareth Vieira

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 Johnny Smiles was the unluckiest person in Hope County.

How unlucky? So unlucky that the town council passed a bylaw restricting him to his home. A motion that passed unanimously. A sentence he accepted without protest.

Although Johnny was an older man, most folks considered him an overgrown child. He was brilliant, in the way all children in Hope County were brilliant—a lingering side effect of the Disaster, that tainted the drinking water and perfumed the air with long-forgotten toxins.

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