Tag: families

All Stories, General Fiction

Braelin Cordelis by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

It did not come with electricity or a smash of static on the air, but it was there. Braelin Cordelis, five minutes into the darkness of a new day, a streetlight’s glow falling through his window like a subtle visitor, was caught on the edge of his chair. Knowledge flowed to him, information of a most sublime order, privacy, intimacy, all in one slow sweep of the air; his grandson was just now, just this minute, into this world, his only grandson. He could feel him, that child coming, making way his debut into the universe, and his name would be Shag. And for this life he and Shag would be in a mysterious and incomprehensible state of connection. This, in the streetlight’s glow, in the start of a new day though dawn not yet afoot, he was told.

Continue reading “Braelin Cordelis by Tom Sheehan” →

All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction

Snakes & Lasses by Christopher Stanley

literallystories2014

Jock’s folding his pyjamas back under his pillow when he hears it. A low, growling hiss. His twin daughters are elsewhere, probably playing in the walls, so it’s just him and the mannequin dressed as his wife in the bedroom. He’s searching for the source of the noise when the duvet shifts on the bed. It’s a slight movement, like wind-ruffled marram grass, but it’s something. Carefully, he pulls back the covers, revealing the green and yellow-chevroned scales of a king cobra.

Continue reading “Snakes & Lasses by Christopher Stanley” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Lessons by Gigi Papoulias

literallystories2014

The first time the piano teacher walked up the two flights to our apartment, my mother rushed to help him. “Thank you, but I can manage,” he said as he tap-tapped his way up.  He wore the thickest glasses I had ever seen. His eyeballs, massive behind the lenses, wobbled and darted – not quite focused on anything in particular. Tallish and round, he always wore a suit. His big shoes were shiny. Before he even entered the room, I could smell his cologne – heavy and manly. When he opened his mouth to speak, he sounded airy, womanly. Sometimes, when I’d play, he’d sing along in a shrilly opera-singer voice.   I’M a yankee doodle dan-DEE…

Continue reading “Lessons by Gigi Papoulias” →

All Stories, Humour, Short Fiction

Initiation by Richelle Co

literallystories2014

I stare into the fire, tendrils of heat swirling around my face.

It is the first time I will do this. I had anticipated growing inherent wisdom, like that of the elders, but here I am at a ripe age and still rendered witless by the task ahead of me. Adulthood is a farce.

Continue reading “Initiation by Richelle Co” →

All Stories, General Fiction

The Path Home By Frederick K Foote

literallystories2014

 

Back in 1949 or 1950 when I was six or seven, my grandfather took me on my first trip on ‘the Slave Road,’ ‘the Hidden Highway,’ ‘the Nigger Byway,’ ‘the Devil’s Footpath,’ or ‘the River Styx Trail.’ All these names and more for a narrow, dark path, a little over a half-mile long, that saved almost a mile and a half between our farm and Corn Row Road. The “Row” was a dirt road, where our black friends and relatives lived.

Continue reading “The Path Home By Frederick K Foote” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Minus Fifty by AN Block

literallystories2014

Hopeless, my father said, taking another bite out of the meatball sandwich Mom had made him.

What is? I asked him.

You. He put the food down. You’ll say whatever garbage comes to mind, regardless of who’s around, won’t you? To get a cheap laugh. You’ve got no filter between your brain and your big mouth.

Continue reading “Minus Fifty by AN Block” →

All Stories, General Fiction

A Hero of Sorts by Martyn Clayton

literallystories2014

There’d be silence in the seconds before the explosion. Even the crash and roar, the shifting of the sand and silt above would momentarily cease. Then you’d sit there crouched in the dark wondering what had happened to your breath.  You’d count it in as somewhere ahead there’d be the movement of a body in scurrying retreat.

Continue reading “A Hero of Sorts by Martyn Clayton” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Our Hoyles by Kim Suhr

literallystories2014

“Nine hearts.”

Dang. My husband’s always doing that, overbidding me when he knows fool well I can make my bid and he’s got diddly-squat. Of course, nine hearts is the perfect bid—for Ed. If he wins the round, he’s a hero for pulling it off with a hand like a foot. That’s what we call it when our cards stink, a hand like a foot. If we get bumped, he’ll blame it on me, say I inkled wrong, made him think I could get more tricks than I could. Never mind that I bid spades. That won’t make a bit of difference when we replay the hand at the top of our lungs after Dan and Jean have gone home. Either way, nine hearts makes him look good and me look bad.

Continue reading “Our Hoyles by Kim Suhr” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Posterior Rugae by Paul Strong

literallystories2014

The whole thing about bum cracks and manual workers is derided only by people who don’t work hard, physically, and by younger people, thinner people. Alec didn’t care what people thought, what stuff looked like, what was falling apart or falling down as long as it did the job. It’s as much as he could do to pick himself up after bending down to fiddle with something. He picked up, pulled up what he could, when he could. He was at the stage where he had to prioritise physical effort in a very task specific way. After hours, years of hard labour, his time was spent just getting done, anything else was superfluous. It wasn’t giving up, it was getting by. Continue reading “Posterior Rugae by Paul Strong” →