Raine was in the next town when the accident happened. She pulled over at the roadblock where a man in uniform with a very big gun said, “There’s been an accident at the plant, Mam. Evacuation underway. You can’t pass.”
Tag: fiction
Why Kurosawa Couldn’t Get Funding by David Lohrey – (Adult Content.)
I find the cinema just minutes from the busy train station. There’s not a soul in sight, but I am nervous, so I fold my umbrella quickly and creep down the narrow stairs. There is an umbrella stand at the top of the stairs but I can’t risk having it stolen. I like the soiled posters lining the walls, wonderful Japanese erotic noir. I go immediately to the window, where I am greeted by a silver-toothed little man whose boyish grin reminds me somehow of Mickey Rooney. No name-tags in this joint. He is middle-aged. His teeth glisten with silver and gold like the Mexican lady serving my favorite burritos in La Puente. He doesn’t look up. He reaches for my five-thousand yen note with two hands extended. He smiles wildly, perhaps idiotically. He pulls out some bills. “Just one? Is that right?” “Yeah,” I say. His furrowed brow suggests deep thought. He looks at the fiver I have handed to him. He strikes a few buttons on his calculator. Suddenly, he hesitates and then reaches into a little drawer beneath the counter. “It’s 2,000 yen at this time, you know.” “Yes, that’ll be fine.” He opens the plastic pouch to his right, pulls out three one-thousand yen notes, folds them and counts them twice before handing them over. We don’t make eye contact. I thank him in my poor Japanese: “Arigato gozaimasu.” He bows slightly, still grinning from ear to ear.
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Chapter Reaching for a Novel Part 2 by Tom Sheehan (Adult Content)
Traegger Cable, too, took in that loveliness, the sheathed agreement of their first meeting, how yellow clung in curves, arches, turning darker where it was darker, tossing daylight about her, splashing it around, washing the lithe frame she carried with sunlight. Her hair, once again, shook loose, a forgotten attendant that sat lightly on the forehead, wind-worked as ever, playing a game, being innocent in the very breath that created motion. Cable someplace, somewhere, had seen this pose, this framed moment. He struggled to find who or where, at what point of travel such a sight had been captured that it now came back to him so richly.
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Week 144
Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!
The world is not a happy place. I don’t think it has ever been.
Coney Island by Adam Kluger
Maybe it was the mini-roller coaster in Coney Island.
The one before the crazy spinning turbo that had fucked up his back with an unexpected jolt.
Maybe it was the…
Water Buffalo for One by Tim Grutzmacher
Gary still had some paper to use up. He didn’t want anything to go to waste. He had ordered personalized stationery for years and relished any opportunity to use it. This particular batch featured a thick black line across the top of the page with his name standing out in the most powerful font he believed to have ever existed. He had decided to hand write it, Gary was quite proud of his penmanship and had received countless compliments about it over the years, along with decorations from his school days. It went as follows…
The King of a Thousand Voices by Larry Lefkowitz
In our small town with its lone radio station, Wilbur was something of a celebrity. He was the sound effects man for our radio dramas, but this doesn’t do him justice. He could reproduce any sound without relying on the use of hammer-on-coconut for horses’ hooves and similar mechanical tricks of the trade. Wilbur produced every sound required with his voice. Small wonder our town dubbed him ‘The King of a Thousand Voices.’
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A New Book of Numbers (Part II) By Leila Allison
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21 August 1902 and 2017
When the moon occluded the sun 42,005 days in the future, Lewis Coughland became self-aware in the Legend of Emma Wick. He had known that this would happen, but it was still a surprise to awaken in the mind of the great love of his afterlife as she stood on the deck of a ferry, clutching her sleeping two-year-old daughter, Mary, to her chest.
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Week 143 – Ugly Babies, Parricide And Upsetting Freddy
I have mentioned on many occasions character names and how shit I am at coming up with them. Why do some writers go for the exotic? There are plenty people called Mary and Jimmy out there so why not use them?
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Cake and Coffee By Ronald Friedman
Listen, you’ve gotta hear this.
I was over by my Ma. I don’t see her much, but I’m trying to do better.
Some of you guys have met my girlfriend, Doris. She comes from a big family so I figure I’ll take her over to Ma’s house and that way I get to see my Ma and Doris sees that I’m a good family man. Can’t hurt.
literally stories 