All Stories, Romance

Fly Love by Ateret Haselkorn

Olivia and her boyfriend broke up on a Sunday morning.  It wasn’t a surprise, really.  Olivia had offered her boyfriend an amicable break up twice before by yelling, “Do you just want to split up?” two times.  Although he had asked to stay together then, he had behaved otherwise by disappearing for hours and returning drunk without any explanation.  As a last attempt at repair, Olivia had called his parents for help.  His father had assured her that he would force his “idiot son” to propose if he only could.

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All Stories, Latest News

Week 123 – Reports, Ecstasy And Magical Shit

Well it’s Week 123

…It’s easy as ABC

…Wait a minute, that may be around the wrong way…Or should that be ’round the wrong way’?

I think that was recorded when it was legal for Michael Jackson to play with little boys.

Anyhow, I was on the site commenting when I began to wonder how many of our authors have a look at the related stories that come up? They are listed below the ‘Share This’ icon which is just under the authors name at the end of the story.

Are you too insecure to read a common theme? Well it may be a common tag…I’m not really sure. No matter what, I think it’s quite interesting. For you to have a related theme or style, surely you would take a peek into that person’s work simply for curiosity.

Go on…Look back, compare and give the author a comment. It’s always wonderful to read what someone takes out of your work especially if the site has decided that you are of the same ilk!

The site is all wise and knowing. It works by recognising data and common themes, it changes all these into clogarithms and cross references them with input / output / colour of eyes and what star signs you are.

I need to thank Nik for his professionalism and his knowledge of these technical points. Or as he refers to it, ‘magical shit!’. His firm is lucky to have him!!

Back in the day, (I thought that may have been a more interesting reference but it isn’t…I checked) when I was young, idealistic and stupid, I sent a book to an independent reviewer. Surprisingly, it was returned with a report. I was thrilled. I was brilliant!! It cost me seventy five pounds for someone to tell me that. It was worth every penny. My self-esteem rose to heights that they’ve never reached again. That was actually my first ever experience of feedback.

OK, I now know that it was a pile of shit. No con-women worth anything would piss you off with a bad review. However, this person was either very perceptive or very lucky as she did compare me to an author I loved. She stated that my work reminded her of James Herbert. I was in cloud nine. I still am. Not because of any success or me becoming the new James Herbert but simply because someone I paid mentioned me in the same sentence as one of my favourite authors.

When I think on it, that was the equivalent of a ninety five pound lady of the night screaming that you are the best she has ever had. It’s shallow, I will admit but leave me with my moment, the same moment I would have given the lady of the night.

What I am getting at in my usual cack handed manner is that we’ve given you a platform for some peer comment and input. There is no cost and if there is a common theme or style, surely it would be mutually beneficial.

Our older stories still need to be loved and read. Please have a look back. It keeps them alive.

Onto this weeks stories.

Our subjects include torment, a light-bulb injury, a realistic romance, a hair straightener injury and some observational writing.

We have three new writers, one multi-talented author and one of our delightful editors. You’ve probably guessed that means it wasn’t me!

As always our initial comments follow.

On Monday Mr Adam Kluger added to his extensive back-catalogue with, ‘What Would Breslin Have Thought?‘.

‘I don’t think many could take such a simple story on infatuation and get so much character out of it.’

‘Pretty clever!’

‘Multi-layered with a real character.’

We had our first new author published on Tuesday. We welcome Shelby Leet as well as all our débutantes. ‘Proper Hygiene‘ was next up.

‘This made me grin.’

‘Bonkers and I like it!’

‘This worked even though it made no sense.’

Aaron Kaplan was our next first time author. As well as a welcome, we hope that they all have fun on the site.

Two Is The Loneliest Number‘ was Wednesdays offering.

‘This was wry and amusing.’

‘Accomplished, with some really good lines.’

‘A good piece of writing.’

On Thursday we had the lovely Diane dusting off the cob-webs. It has been far too long!! And I am happy to let you all into a secret, Diane did this only for fun. But it was read and we thought that it had a lot more merit than a simple piece of fun!

Even when Mrs Dickson is being playful, there is quality!!

Brush Off’ was our penultimate story of the week.

Our last author is also a newbie to the site. Neil James finished off the week. As with all writers, new or old hands we ask you to please send us more of your work!!

Our House Has No Windows.’ was published on Friday.

‘Romance turning to shit! That’s more like it!’

‘Full of pathos and longing.’

‘So much emotion very compactly done.’

That’s us for another week folks.

Before I go, there are a few points I need to address:

Insecurity and writers go together like cheese and jam.

I would appeal to Nik’s gaffers to give him a raise!

Please don’t send for a report.

And regarding the ladies of the night, well you get what you pay for!

Hugh

Banner Image: Pixabay.com

All Stories, General Fiction

Our House Has No Windows by Neil James

Our house has no windows. On winter mornings, I leave in downpours and darkness at six, then return in the brooding grey of twilight. Sometimes your car is here and sometimes it’s not. On the evenings when you’re around we eat supper in silence, chewing food without flavour. I’m never hungry any more, either. We scrape more food into the dustbin than either of us eat.  You take to the sofa behind the barrier of your phone, tapping out messages to whoever. I take the armchair and read books I’ve read before.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Brush Off by Diane M Dickson

Lydia was late home, she had delayed as long as possible but now it had to be faced. She threw her keys into the old bowl on the hall table and climbed the stairs. Cuthbert had stepped out of the shower moments before.

As she stood in the dark of the landing she watched him stroll from the bathroom, his pale arse glowing in the borrowed light from the bedroom. She found it hard to believe that she used to find that particular part of his anatomy attractive. She had stroked it, patted it and on occasion she had kissed it.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Proper Hygiene by Shelby Leet

 

There is no event that can make you question your life choices quite like having your ass stuck to the roof of your apartment. Harlan’s horoscope this morning made it seem like it was going to be a pretty decent day: Gemini–Stay the fuck off my lawn. Well he had done exactly that, yet here he was by late afternoon, blood pooling slowly to his face and a suspiciously lightbulb-shaped burn on his hip punctuating his thoughts with intermittent stings of pain.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The Beguiling (1972) by Stephen Tuffin

One sunny morning, Pete Adcock and his seven year old son Nicky came out of the side door to their house and climbed in to Pete’s old Ford Popular. It was a rare sight to see – a car on a council estate – but if you wanted to split hairs you might point out that Pete’s house wasn’t actually on the estate, it was right next door to it and Pete owned his house – unlike many of his neighbours.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Days of Heroes by Melodie Corrigall

Until a week ago Christopher thought it was all coming together. After the incident with Melina and his boss’ reaction to it, he knew it was all coming apart. What to do? His brother-in-law, an addict forever in search of a quick cure, presently touted the “The Stages of Change” system, as a guide to better health. Christopher couldn’t remember the fancy names they used but put simply they were phases describing your state as you advanced from an unhealthy (or in his case unprincipled) behavior to a healthier one.

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All Stories, General Fiction

In Through the Wow-Signal Emoji By Leila Allison

 

Renfield and Ethan Stoker-Belle are the proud owners of a “Spirit-enhanced house.” This used to mean “haunted house,” and the bump-in-the-night types within were known as “ghosts.” Whether you think it political correctness run amok, or simply a verbal showing of respect for the departed, a plurality of the individuals on the Otherside have a strong antipathy for the word “ghost.” You must call them Spirits. Nearly all Spirits find the G-word offensive, for it implies a state of existence inferior to that of the original item. This hoary old stereotype is going to be hard to dislodge from the human psyche; and not helping matters that much is the haughty attitude of some Spirits, who seem to deny that the only thing they had to do to become what they are is die. Still, the dead outnumber the quick by a ratio of nearly thirty to one. Nowadays this vast once silent majority refuses to rest in peace.

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