Here we are as promised Week 300.
I think that needs a special mention!
We are just a couple of weeks by our anniversary which was on the 17th. So let’s get the couple of budgies with a brick!
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The Scary Lady by Jeffrey Penn May
Not long after Mike and Katherine moved into their spacious St. Louis county house with pillars and brick facade, its value plummeted. But it was a nice house, woods in the back, nice deck.
“What will we do when they’re gone?” Katherine asked, brushing a tangle of brown thinning hair.
“Who?” he responded. She was talking about their kids. Two more years and both would be in college.
“All this space,” she said. “Empty.”
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Endometrium by Katie Ellen Lamb
He is shaking. His skin is sticky and pale like the underside of a frog. I feel nothing. I move my hand, try pry it between us. I want to touch myself, but a cramp has started between my fingers and my wrist. I think this is a waste of time. Then, he goes deeper. Something inside me feels jagged. I see curves of red flesh behind my eyes. It’s a dull pain, a building pain and I think if I’d have just touched myself I’d have forgotten it. When he stabs me again, it bursts, wells up, floods over. I put my hands on his shoulders and I push.
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Karaoke At The Pincher’s Arms by Hugh Cron – Warning Adult Content
Jimmy’s knees were indented where his elbows dug into them.
He gently moved to and fro on the swing. He could hear his father singing some old song that he’d heard too many times. He looked across the road and saw Charlie The Paedo staring at him. Jimmy knew if he told his dad, he’d end up in jail again.
He heard the pub door open, “Here you go son. Is your mum not back from the bogs?”
The boy shook his head. He accepted the crisps and can of Coke.
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Parachutes at Night by Tim Frank
Let me tell you the procedure. We will never meet. Everything is anonymous. We are The Parachute Art Installation Company against Deformity and Disfigurement. You won’t find us on any search engine, but we span the globe. We invade flats, skyscrapers, parks, beaches, motorways, stadiums, places of worship and pounce on unsuspecting Victims who we have painstakingly monitored. We strike against individuals from all strata of society that are deemed physically repugnant.
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A Cookie and a Glass of Milk by Shira Musicant
A Cookie and A Glass of Milk
(A version of this story was first published in the Santa Barbara Literary Review)
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Literally Reruns – The Swans by Hugh Cron
Leila knows that you can’t go far wrong with a story from Hugh Cron. I reckon she spends much time rooting through his drawers – the ones in his cabinet down in the bowels of LS Towers – Okay I’ll go now and leave you with the lovely Leila – this is what she said:
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Week 299 – Hell Getting Fuller, Plunging A Prick In A Prancer Pullover And Crocogaters Living On Tropical Islands.
Here we are at week 299.
Our sixth year anniversary was on Tuesday but we will deal with that next week on our 300th posting.
We are still not publishing plague stories and do as much as we can not to mention it, you may have noticed.. But we do have something to thank it for and that is the removal of Peter Sutcliffe from this planet. I’m hoping that it has a job in hell repeatedly killing Thatcher only for it to make it redundant.
Continue reading “Week 299 – Hell Getting Fuller, Plunging A Prick In A Prancer Pullover And Crocogaters Living On Tropical Islands.”
Haunt Me Like You Hate Me by Alex Sinclair
“Men are gold, and women are white cloth. Gold, once sullied, can be cleaned and polished, while white cloth, once soiled and torn, can never be clean again.”
Khmer proverb
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Hell Cat Laid Low by Marco Etheridge
Maggie slogged through the murky gloom of Water Street, her boots squelching in the muck. Gas streetlamps threw wavering silver cones into the darkness. The feeble light only accentuated the inky Manhattan night. Piles of manure and offal cast eerie shadows across the black mire.
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literally stories 