Tag: free reading

Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 323: A Dope By Any Other Name is Still a…

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Prologue

Welcome to week 323. My name is Leila Allison, and I believe that I am the first American editor at Literally Stories, which, of course, means nothing to no one nowhere no how, but since I so rarely come in first, I thought I’d mention it.

For those who are addicted to Hugh’s Saturday posts, I extend my apologies. But the fellow deserves a break every so often, and this week I have taken up the cause in his place. Although I have no idea what Hugh will do on his mini-vacation, rest assured it probably doesn’t involve listening to Coldplay or soliciting funds for a statue of the late Royal Consort to be erected in Ayr, Scotland.

The world is an unsteady place, but one thing is for certain: Hugh makes the Saturday post look easier than it is to accomplish in reality. So it is with great anxiety and a general sense of foreboding that I now present my pale imitation of the master.

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All Stories, General Fiction

A Flower for a Lost Grave by Andrew Johnston

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It’s right rare that someone asks me to take them down a road I don’t know – been traveling the backroads of Teyach going on twenty years, and the only ones I don’t know are those little sandy, marshy stretches in the inside. Figures that’s where the lady wanted me to take her. She wasn’t much of a talker, wouldn’t even give me her name. She just sat there in the passenger seat with her eyes fixed on the horizon, those dried up flowers crinkling in her grip. Not that I didn’t try to make conversation – drive mile after mile through silt that’s aching to swallow your tires whole, and you just have to say something, even if it ends up being to yourself.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Sofa Surfing by Tim Frank

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When Jeff built a water slide on the stairs of his friend Andy’s house, he knew he’d crossed a line and he couldn’t go back. He had been sofa surfing for months, alienating all his friends and now Andy would surely turn against him too. So, Jeff decided to go all out.

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All Stories, Historical

A Fleeting Victory by Jake Kendall

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The official records taken at Fort Indomitable suggest that nothing occurred on July 17, 1861. Initially some reference was made, documenting that a horse race between a soldier at the fort and an unnamed Navajo brave was won by the American. Some weeks later, this record was removed and destroyed.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Over the Limit by Yash Seyedbagheri

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Robotic card reps call to collect in the morning, reiterate in the afternoon, and assault my ears in the evening.

They really need to get in touch with Nicholas Alexander Botkin. Age thirty-four. Date of birth 16 January 1987.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Hobie’s Sugar Still by Tom Sheehan

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Hobart Bridgewater, Hobie to most folks, was a freighter who promised delivery of whiskey to several saloons along the Snake River. “I go get it for you and bring it back, and then you pay me. If you don’t pay me, you don’t get the load and I don’t bring you no more. That’s all easy for you gents and tough for me. Some days out there on the trail I have to keep my rifle leveled and ready, that’s why I have the best shot in all the territory riding up there with me. Burke Molton ain’t never missed a target he took aim at, and that includes those three scallywags who tried us on for size on the river road just last week and he knocked two of them right off their mounts with two shots and them riding hard at us all the while and trying to get the best whiskey in the west from us at the point of their guns.”

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 322 – On A Hot Summer Night Would You Offer Your Throat To The Wolf With The Red Roses? Shang-A-Lang And The Greatest’s Greatest Line.

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Les McKeown
Jim Steinman

Another week has come and gone and we’re still receiving plenty of submissions.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Rebirth by Martin Toman

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John coiled the rope thirteen times around itself to form the hangknot. The ridges of the knot felt strong, almost muscular, in his hands. John knew his knots. Working on farms will make you an expert in practically anything, or anything practical. He slid the noose open and held it at arm’s length, looked at it carefully: it’ll serve.

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All Stories, General Fiction

An Audience of One by Hugh Todd

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First stop was the bins by the pond. He parked the buggy and blew on his hands with little effect, except to bring on a coughing fit. He bent down to pick up a ketchup-stained PFC take away box, fumbling for a moment, edging the carton along the frosted path towards the pond railings. As he picked it up something caught his eye behind the railings; sunlight glinting off a shiny surface. For a minute his heart raced and he wondered if this was the knife from the attack outside the school last week. He instinctively looked around, but at 7:30am on a February morning Clissold Park was desolate. Lloyd was the only soul in there, with just wildlife for company.

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