All Stories, General Fiction, Humour

A Miracle on Granville Street by dm gillis

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It was said that the Grove Café was so cheap that the Health Department had to bring its own cockroaches. It occupied an abandoned Bank of BC storefront on Denman Street in the west end of Vancouver, a mixed neighbourhood of the snotty middle class and the grubby poor. The café is gone now. The lease ran out, the landlord raised the rent and the Grove ceased to exist. The storefront sits empty now, and though he’d never admit it, the greedy landlord laments the loss.

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All Stories, General Fiction

River Water Larceny by Tom Sheehan

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English Wells fought the Pumquich River for forty years, moving his will ever by degrees at it. “By God, Miriam,” he often said to his wife, “I’ll go at it until I drop, most likely. What you work for, you get. You get what you work for.” English, lacking funds or worldly promise, wanted to steal more land from this side of the river, to push his small estate out over the river’s run, to claim energy’s due.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Romance

Still Working by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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December sweeps her dead hand around my throat. My capuche swooshes open and I come to life in the morning hour rush. A beggar scratches the furrows between the cobblestones outside the metro station. When I get close to him, the automatic doors open and the warm breath of the subway hits me. He looks up at me, then back down again to the cobblestones.

I walk out on to the escalator, a boy runs past me, then a girl, then another boy. The latter boy shoves the girl when he rushes by her, down the escalator. She yells, but keeps going. Yesterday the fungus to the right was green, but today it’s covered in white foam.

The subway train comes in and I get on. It’s full, so I stand. I can always tell which state the country is in by looking at the adverts. Education, insurances, job seminars and cheap groceries. I’m reminded of what the prime minister said; the lowest unemployment rate in Europe by 2020.

Promises aren’t worth much to the poor. That’s why the adverts look the way they do, and why the beggar scratches the furrows of the cobblestone.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Neverland by Jono Naito

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I gave him what was left of my hand because he asked for it with such a kindness; he even called me miss. It was the kindness you forget about when you run out of family and end up in a home off the soggy edge of the Everglades. Rosecliff, they called it, to make it sound less like swamp muck. I didn’t know how well I could stand anymore until that man, the father of the head doctor, told me we were leaving for somewhere better. You don’t get feet to disintegrate like mine unless you traveled, and traveled I did, and travel I would. All that man had to say was please, you know, before I remembered how to walk again.

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All Stories, General Fiction

This Face by Diane M Dickson

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Today I know this face.  I stare into the mirror and I know this face.  It is me, not the me that it was when we bought my mirror all those years ago.  Down in the antique market, Martin and I trawling for treasures to make our home and we found it dusty and forlorn, how pleased we were.  No it doesn’t show me that person, but it is the me of now and of just yesterday.

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Editor Picks, Writing

Editor Picks by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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Literally Stories have had picks by a bunch of lovely editors, let’s also have a bunch of picks from an unloved editor. Before I go on I just want to clarify, I’m not picking the ones already picked, which are all great.

Unfortunately to choose one is to disregard another. My lovely better half comes from Belgium where they have a saying: To choose is to lose. It’s why their Food Menus are endlessly long and why the food arrives with an uplifting pep talk; Better luck next time, Brussels sprout.

I’m rambling on, so let me take the advice from the boy with the snotty nose which is: Start with the picking!

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Literally Stories – Week 36

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There is a well-known truism you can take a horse to water but a pencil must be lead. I have waited an aeon  to find a suitable juncture to slot this witticism into a profound piece of writing, but alas, had to stick it in here instead.

Whilst this observation might seem bizarre, regular readers will know instantly it is merely a shameless contrivance by which to segue seamlessly into the first of this week’s homages to the short story.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Underneath the Rose by Irene Allison

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It’s now three feet farther to hell for persons who’d jump off the Warren Avenue Bridge. The City of Bremerton has recently installed an eighteen-inch extension to the span’s rail. In my opinion, the city has wasted its money. The Warren goes up to a fatal height almost immediately, and at its middle it stands better than ten stories above the churning and hungry Port Washington Narrows. Only Serious Persons go over the Warren; less than serious persons, those who need just a little attention to feel better inside, never go to the Warren to perform on the off-chance that they might fall off. No, I don’t see a foot-and-a-half—in both directions—getting in the way of a well prepared and dedicated serious person.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, General Fiction, Science Fiction

Forgotten Memories by Hugh Cron

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The two men nodded and shook hands.

“Please sit. What do I call you?”

“Dymphna.”

“I’m Terry.”

“Pleased to finally meet you.”

Terry wondered about the grin, “…Has everything been done to your satisfaction?”

Dymphna looked around the empty office and nodded.

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All Stories, Fantasy

How to Have Broken Her Heart by Nate Rush

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tulations! You have successfully traveled backwards in time!

Do you have qualms about killing a rare and mystical beast? Do you fear the DMV and other institutions like it? If so, read no further; if not, read on. Throughout the course of this guide you will learn the secrets of time travel. To travel back in time it is necessary to collect your supplies, construct your machine, and then, finally, to make your jump. This is no easy process. Many men and women far smarter than you have failed while attempting to turn back the hands of the clock.

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