Marin walks between the tanks, soft blue light pooling at her feet. Schools of fish flit back and forth to some unspoken rhythm. It’s early evening on a Wednesday, after the post-lunch rush. The aquarium is a welcome escape from the jostling and rudeness and ghastly chaos outside. Most families are probably having tea now or taking kids to clubs, or whatever it is families do.
Continue reading “Last Night at the Aquarium by Leila Martin”
Computers and Bill Clinton’s penis consume the world. Meanwhile, from behind a desk, my older sister becomes my teacher. She’s twenty-six. I’m fourteen.
Continue reading “Sister Teacher by Yash Seyedbagheri”
Leila has brought out a serious piece by one of the founding father’s of the site – who is now a father father as well – how things have moved on. Anyway this is a story from lovely Tobias and this is what she said.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Homes, Brothers and Fantasies by Tobias Haglund”
Rio sits in an orange and yellow faded tent in the middle of an overgrown field. The sun is low in the sky and slants through the branches of trees that died long ago, grey and brittle instead of green and supple. There are buildings not too far from him—houses—but Rio doesn’t go to the houses. His parents told him not to go there.
Continue reading “Rio by Kailyn Kausen”
Her box on the shelf at June’s Miniature Mart is getting dusty. She watches through her plastic window on the world as her aisle is put on sale. “50% off! Get ’em before they’re gone!”
Continue reading “June’s Miniature Mart Off Highway 101 by Sage Tyrtle”
They say you’re a paladin, but all I see is a fool.
Look at you: armored like a crawdad with the brains to match. One wrong move on that poleboat and you’ll sink to the base of the swamp.
Gimme your hand. Let’s get you back on solid ground—if you can call this pier solid. The stilts wobble in the sludge, so watch your step.
Not a talker, clearly. Don’t bother unrolling that scroll. I know all about your oath of silence. Word travels fast among us Marshmen. As the village shaman, I was among the first to learn about your little quest. You seek redemption, yes?
Then go home. Adopt a war orphan and get on with your life. Truth be told, you’d have better luck floating in that platemail than slaying the Bogroth.
Continue reading “The Grim Morass by David Samuels”
Oh, those squinty little eyes. I’ll never forget the look of them. Like the night she found tobacco crumbs in my baseball jacket pocket. She spread the brown flakes out on a white napkin under our dining room table’s one-hundred-watt bulb.
Continue reading “The Grittiness of Mango Chiffon by Mitchell Toews”
I aim my phone, recording chaos. My classmates can’t beat this, several hundred miles away. An ambulance, a snow-covered hill, a sea of Ponderosa pines, spectators and bright red and blue sleds.
Continue reading “Downhill by Yash Seyedbagheri”
Long time visitors will probably have realised that I upload these Rerun suggestions in the order in which we receive them. So here we are with a look back to last year when Leila sent in this piece by fellow Editor and backbone of the site, Hugh Cron.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Skye Jim McKay by Hugh Cron”
This week I’d like to discuss not giving up. It’s quite apt as we had a writer not so very long ago advise us that they were giving up since this was now their fourth refusal. That is for them to decide but in the whole scheme of things four refusals isn’t that much. But it’s up to the person and how they feel.
Continue reading “Week 314 – Determination, Crushed Testes And An Acceptable Arc Of Urine.”
literally stories 