All Stories, General Fiction

Acton by Christopher A. Dale

Acton had never spent much time contemplating writer’s block. This had everything to do with the fact that he had never previously found himself its victim. Perhaps everything is too strong a word. Acton had no trouble considering the ins and outs of things and events he had no personal experience with—although these things and events necessarily carried with them some intellectual element that sparked his curiosity in the first place. Writer’s block, as an idea, had never presented such an element to command his attention, and on top of that, it seemed too cliché a notion to even deserve it. Nevertheless, the prejudice of abstraction doesn’t always hold up under the weight of actual experience, and he now found writer’s block to be a fascinating object of examination.

Acton was at his desk, unable to write.

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All Stories, Writing

Week 210 – Arsehole Letter Writers, Bastard Councillors And Enraged Twats With Expensive Postcodes.

Here we are at week 210.

I don’t know about anyone reading this but there is a tradition in Ayr that showcases all that is bad with writing. It is the weekly release of the local newspaper.

Continue reading “Week 210 – Arsehole Letter Writers, Bastard Councillors And Enraged Twats With Expensive Postcodes.”

All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Marlene Dietrich by Riham Adly

My promotional Facebook ad campaign is far from ready. An upside down, high resolution, Marlene Dietrich holding my self-published book awaits my intervention.  I hesitate before choosing the rotate option or is it the flip? Marlene looks regal, confident in her fur coat. What would Marlene think of a book starting with:

 She loved lemons and would squirt them on everything, their yellow rind reminding him of her sunshine. Lemons never tasted sweeter. Without her, his heart wouldn’t beat right.

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All Stories, Fantasy, Short Fiction

Black Bear on White Paper by Desmond White

In the Archial, what some call the Little Light Library, it is always night. The distant ceiling is a night’s sky held by pillars, and connecting those pillars are shelves of books coated in leather and dust. The only light comes from lanterns. Inside steel cages, white fires flicker eternally, generated by a lost art. The lanterns are stars if anything. The lower one travels, the bluer those stars. Deep enough and there are no lights at all.

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All Stories, Horror, Short Fiction

Paper Skins by L’Erin Ogle

I take the skins of the women my lover loved. I flesh them until they are paper thin. They are folded stacked in a box at the back of my closet. The box is cherry wood and the lock is made of gold. I know it should be silver, because silver contains powerful magic, and sometimes I hear the skins shifting and whispering to each other.

Think what you want.

He left me no choice.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Summoning the Toads by Matthew Roy Davey

The Mooney woman taught him how to do it.  She was forbidden to be on the premises, but she called Alfie over one day when he was playing near the fence that bordered the lane.  The call was a high fluttering whistle, dancing like a mountain stream.  He had been building a den from old branches and bracken when he heard, and though he knew from whence came the sound, he was drawn there as though to a trove of sweets.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

December by T D Calvin

A small bird lands at the roadside, scuffing the hot dust, and she asks the tour guide what it is.

“Zebra finch,” he says.  “They’re what you wanna see if you’re lost out here.”

Eilidh watches the bird dab at the earth with its orange beak.

“Must be water somewhere close,” the guide says.  “They never stray far from it.”

“I wouldn’t either,” she says.

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All Stories, Literally Reruns

Literally Reruns – November Moon by Sharon Frame Gay

The wonderful Leila Allison is keeping us well supplied with Rerun suggestions and they are all superb choices. Thank you so much Leila. This is what she had to say about November Moon:

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All Stories, Writing

Week 209 – Teaching Welsh, Dejavu And A Wish That Men Should Suffer Horrendous Thrush From Using Bathing Products.

Well it’s been a busy week here at Literally Stories. We worked our way through forty odd stories (And some good ones!)

We have reached the quarter of a million hits and all is well in our wee writing world.

Continue reading “Week 209 – Teaching Welsh, Dejavu And A Wish That Men Should Suffer Horrendous Thrush From Using Bathing Products.”