All Stories, General Fiction

The Undefeated by Mithran Somasundrum

From behind the taps, Findlay glanced up as the pub door swung open with a bang. Maurice came in looking apologetic. The wind had snatched it out of his hand. Opposite Findlay, on his stool by the bar, Frank listed over with hopeful love. “Hit him with the right,” he said.

“Sure you did,” said Findlay.

Continue reading “The Undefeated by Mithran Somasundrum”
All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Punch drunk by Alex Sinclair

Billy circles to the right, away from Blaine’s money shot.

The big right-hand snaps out like a snake and Billy slips it and it goes over his shoulder.

Billy digs a hook into Blaine’s side, trying to tag the floating rib and bust it.

Blaine winces and drops his hands, only slightly, to cover up.

Billy flicks out a jab. Once, twice, aiming for the nose.

Blaine’s head jerks back and sweat droplets spray off his head.

Billy’s dad always said the jab is as important to a boxer as a paintbrush is to an artist.

Continue reading “Punch drunk by Alex Sinclair”

All Stories, General Fiction

Down for the Count by Fred Vogel

Calvin Allen and Leo ‘The Lip’ Grady were superstars in the world of boxing during the seventies. Their three fights against one another are legendary. Allen won the first bout with a TKO in the eighth. A year later, Grady would turn the tables with a fourth round knockout. But it was their rubber match that people still talk about today. It was the lanky, reserved, black man from New Jersey against the stocky, white, Irishman from Queens. The crowd was divided in their loyalties. Back and forth the two boxers went, bobbing and weaving, each landing devastating blows on the other. One would be knocked to the canvas and then the other. The sold-out arena was in a frenzy. It was the closest, most brutal, of their three meetings. Round after round it continued, with neither fighter giving an inch.

Continue reading “Down for the Count by Fred Vogel”

All Stories, General Fiction, Humour

The Greatest Cock that Ever Lived by David Louden


I was fifteen, it was April and the summer had started early. My mother gave me ten pounds to run to the parade of shops at the bottom of the Oldpark Road to buy two steaks and some mince to fry into burgers for the dog’s dinner. Dragging myself away from the television I threw on my trainers, laced up, pocketed the banknote and walked down to the bottom of The Bone. I passed many people, they all knew me. I said hello to them all before suddenly someone was calling my name from outside the Suicide Inn.

Continue reading “The Greatest Cock that Ever Lived by David Louden”