I always thought that when it rains that means someone died. Funerals need rain like they need flowers or a priest or a rabbi or an imam.
It rained a lot that summer.
Continue reading “The Dying Disease by Elad Haber”
Tag: free reading
Kitty Cat Man by Erik Sorensen
A clutter of stray cats roams the streets at night, eating corpses. Least that’s what they say. The clutter don’t make the corpses neither; they just sort of clean them up for us. Course, technically speaking, they’re a destruction of cats, seeing as how they’re wild. But clutter sounds better. Besides, all cats are wild no matter how fat and lazy and orange they might pretend to be. Cats are more like us than we care to admit. Only two animals who regularly practice sadism are us and the kitty cats. Hell, they even domesticated themselves just like we did. But even after all these thousands of years, they’re still creatures of the night. Just like us. Just like that Laura Branigan song. And just like the world.
Continue reading “Kitty Cat Man by Erik Sorensen”
Urban Violence by Frederick K Foote
“Time and tide wait for no man, buddy. You got to get up and get back on track.”
Coach Leif is kneeling beside me with a grin morphing into a smirk. I’m flat on my back courtesy of a blindside hit that has me seeing stars, hearing bells, and wondering if I’m paralyzed.
“Track? Was I on a track? What the fuck? I thought I got hit by a truck. What’s a truck doing on our track?”
“Come on. Get on up and shake it off, Urban.”
Continue reading “Urban Violence by Frederick K Foote”
Brought Down by Y by Marco Etheridge
Philosophy 101 saved my life. A weird thing to say, I know, but it’s mostly true. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that my sleazy professor taught me how to stay alive. Of course, that knowledge was passed on accidentally. Professor Tomlinson’s teaching methods consisted of smoking dope and trying to screw his female students, me included. Any actual learning was purely circumstantial.
Continue reading “Brought Down by Y by Marco Etheridge”
Literally Reruns – Fat Cat by Adam Kluger
Here’s a good friend of the site chosen by another good friend of the site. Leila has picked out a story by Adam Kluger and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Fat Cat by Adam Kluger”
Week 310 – Fat Larry’s Prediction, Always Yours And Paloma’s Saturday Special.
Not too much nonsense from me as we have that once in a six year thingy that we do – We have a Saturday Special!!
But I’d like to state, this week I’ve lost my ZoomTimeFace Virginity.
I don’t like it. I prefer to talk pish to folks without seeing my huge face looking back at me.
Continue reading “Week 310 – Fat Larry’s Prediction, Always Yours And Paloma’s Saturday Special.”
Gameday with Gran by Shawn Nocher
“But why, Gran, why does everybody have to die?” He was only eight and it wasn’t like the idea was news to him. But it wasn’t something he thought much about until it got personal.
She only shrugged, advanced one of her checker pieces. “Pay attention.”
Continue reading “Gameday with Gran by Shawn Nocher”
So Many Girls in Leotards by Clarisse Gamblin
“Can I kiss you?” he had asked, staring down at her in that affable, yet intimidating, way.
Ilsa often thought about what might have happened had she responded differently, or if Abigail hadn’t walked in just moments later. She even wondered sometimes if she had heard him correctly. He had said it so softly it was hard to tell. But knowing what she knew now, it made sense, in a terrible, messed up sort of way.
Continue reading “So Many Girls in Leotards by Clarisse Gamblin”
Transformation by Silke Katja Roch
It is early, the first cool, unflinching rays just touching the rocky outcrops above the house, damp drags of fog still clinging to the bottom of the little valley. The air is fresh and dewy, it smells of wet grass and earth and pines. Quite beautiful really, but also eerie and very still.
Continue reading “Transformation by Silke Katja Roch”
The Ceiling by Charlie Rogers
She said she saw angels, and repeated it, so I did too, but I still haven’t grasped what it means.
I climb onto my bed, above the covers, and I gaze at the ceiling, yearning to comprehend it. This gray and dirty ceiling has hovered my whole life, floating above my bed. Built before I arrived, still standing after I’ve gone. Untouched, unchanged. Can I imagine a life without its ever-presence?
Continue reading “The Ceiling by Charlie Rogers”
literally stories 