All Stories, General Fiction

A Scene of Grief by Anuradha Prasad

literallystories2014

Nakul Pandey sat staring at the frail corpse that had been his father. A group of mourners in various shades of white sat in vigil. Suffocating floral bouquet notes arose from the garland-draped cover of the coffin cooler in which the corpse had been kept as the mourners waited for Nakul’s older brother, Vipul, to come from the UK and perform the last rites. Through the huddled fog in his head, Nakul observed the cable snaking from the cooler to the switchboard and anticipated that someone might trip over it. He tripped over it when he got up to take a call. A few hands were raised in alarm, “oh-oh” and “watch it” and “careful” were exclaimed, all garbed in the tone and pitch appropriate to mourning. You wouldn’t want to wake the dead especially if the dead was his father, Jeetendra Pandey.

Continue reading “A Scene of Grief by Anuradha Prasad” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Horror, Short Fiction

Literally Re-Runs – Before We Started Worrying by Martyn Clayton

literallystories2014

Leila has dug out another super piece from the dungeons. This time it’s from way back in 2015 and it’s a dark and disturbing little story. This is what she said:

Continue reading “Literally Re-Runs – Before We Started Worrying by Martyn Clayton” →

All Stories, Latest News, Writing

Week 219 – Masters, Monks And Truthfully Lethargic Cults.

gwencron

Before we start, I would like to congratulate Mr Woods on his Masters win. I’ve mentioned before that he was a mad shagger and I stand by that. But to have the natural drive to look for birdie after birdie by sinking a few long ones is an amazing achievement. (Shame on any of you if you tittered. Or even more shame if you didn’t see that coming!!)

Continue reading “Week 219 – Masters, Monks And Truthfully Lethargic Cults.” →

All Stories, Horror

Sister by Eddie Fogler

literallystories2014

I hated my sister. An easy thing for me to say, despite (according to my parents) hate being such a “strong word.” But it was true; I detested my sister. Loathed her. I didn’t always hate her; in fact, I felt nothing the day she was handed to me.

Continue reading “Sister by Eddie Fogler” →

All Stories, General Fiction

A Turtle’s Farewell by Lisa M DiFruscio

literallystories2014

The chair belonged to the table set I inherited when my mother passed away.  It didn’t fit anywhere in the house, not in the kitchen, not in any corner space where it could be made useful. So when my partner decided to claim it for his own, the chair ended up in the garage, at a new table, where it was sat upon and enjoyed, as a resting place, a work place, a smoking place, a social place, and finally, his quiet place. I would hear the legs of the chair scrape periodically when I was in the kitchen, and although it was buffered by the door, I came to know the squeak as a prelude that soon I would have to stop what I was doing.  Interrupting myself was voluntary.  He would stomp into the kitchen and re-fill his coffee cup.  I would generously get out of his way.

Continue reading “A Turtle’s Farewell by Lisa M DiFruscio” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Sometime a Real Dream Has to Have a Place of its Own or It’s Gone Forever by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

Perhaps it was old Dutch Henry who started it all, but nobody really knows. Dutch was that kind of a guy who worked his mind to a fare-the-well, came out of his house one day with his hammer and started to build a porch on two sides of his house.

Continue reading “Sometime a Real Dream Has to Have a Place of its Own or It’s Gone Forever by Tom Sheehan” →

Short Fiction

The Crying Man by Marco Etheridge

literallystories2014

He comes at me like a small windmill of anguish, arms churning the air as he rolls forward. And he does seem to roll rather than walk. His chubby torso moves up the narrow sidewalk as the background slides away. There are two planes of focus sliding in opposite directions, each sharp and defined. I am trapped in a Spike Lee movie; an extra in one of his double dolly shots.

Continue reading “The Crying Man by Marco Etheridge” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Burnt Orange by Desmond Kelly

literallystories2014

There’s a feral cat watching the birds. Sparrows mainly. The birds remain oblivious, searching for crumbs which the tourists scatter unheedingly in their tracks. There are a great many tourists. It’s hard to understand why this place should appeal to the average visitor. I should know, I’m there against everything I’ve practised in my life. And, I’ve been a sinner – if sinners remain a recognised species. But I had to come. Something inexplicable drew me. Even so, the vast numbers are off putting and I’m wondering if there’s something else. Something I haven’t yet understood. Is it a bank holiday, or is there going to be a local football derby?

Continue reading “Burnt Orange by Desmond Kelly” →