All Stories, General Fiction

What’s Your Opening Line? by Nina Welch

“It’s the hardest thing to make someone laugh especially if you’ve had nothing to laugh about.” –Tracy Morgan

“You know, I’m homeless.”

Silence.

“Hey you in the second row. You look surprised. Do you think I’m too cute to be homeless? It’s pitiful. I don’t have a floor, a roof over my head, a refrigerator to put food in, a place to shower. Do you feel sorry for me? Ah, a few of you. Don’t. I’m a poet. I don’t follow the rules, and I get inspiration looking up through the moon roof of my 2008 Buick, La Crosse, Gold Mist. My grandpa left it to me in his will. I think of him every night as I sleep under the silver apples of the moon and wake to the golden apples of the sun. You probably think this is a poetry reading. Don’t worry, it’s not.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Merely Semantic by Mary Ann Dimand

George thought of it while he was shaving. He was pulling the skin of his right cheek down and carefully stroking with the razor held in his left, less adroit hand, and it was such a shock that he cut himself: Lawyers are magicians. As he applied styptic to his dark cheek, he spun it out: Lawyers bring entities into existence by naming them and delimiting them. Without lawyers, there are no geographical countries, and barely peoples. (And those peoples, insofar as they exist, tend to be distinguished as much by the language they speak as by their companioning.) Lawyers set boundaries, and the lesser wizardries of surveying and mapping arose to aid them.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Arrival by Anna Elin Kristiansen

Fear is gnawing at my insides when I snap my compact shut. Getting caught up in my looks is of no use now. I’m tired – beyond tired, actually, and no amount of powder or mascara will change that. When I meet him, I know I’ll feel naked and transparent. He’ll see right through my façade because I’m half him. My tricks come from him, so he’s bound to know them already.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Overtime by Karen Uttien

Saturday, 6.10pm

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Liam muttered, pulling into the petrol station.

Ten minutes earlier

‘Please.  Please,’ the girl begged. 

Against his better judgement, Liam tapped the address into google, and took the cash. 

‘Thank-you soooo much!’ she said, helping her inebriated friend into the car, before skipping back to the busy beer-garden.

‘You okay?’ Liam asked, watching his young passenger’s head wobble in the rear-view mirror.

In her defence – she did try to open the window.  But the rainbow projectile flew with such force, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 473 – We Don’t Want To Read About The Stitches, ‘I Just Called To Say I Love You’ Is Also Shite And No Fucking Alcohol Is No Alcohol No Matter What The Time!

Another week and another person spitting out the dummy after only two refusals. I don’t bother with these petulants any-more but what it does do is make me appreciate those folks who have took rejection with good grace, realised that it was nothing personal and the best part was, they continued to send. Some have got through, others keep at it.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Absence of Good by Thurman Hart

I don’t believe in God; and I’ll tell you why. I don’t believe that good exists. There’s just evil and the absence of evil. It’s like your air conditioner doesn’t actually blow cold on you. It simply absorbs the heat and expels it elsewhere.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Blacksticks Blue by Robert Cutillo

The terraced house had a brown door, an unkempt garden, and a crooked gate. Weeds sprouted from the wonky paved path, and a torn plastic bag clung to a bare bush.

Michael stood before the gate, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other holding a plastic bag of his own, his eyes fixed on the front door.

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All Stories, Fantasy

 Dive Right In byJames Flanagan

On the canvas, the sun glints off the edge of the pool where the turquoise water meets the azure sky. The palm trees almost sway in the sea breeze, the water shimmers as if tickling the sides of the pool. In a dimly lit room, towards the back of the museum, a single spotlight in an otherwise empty gallery focused its beam on a painting of a swimming pool.

To the left of the painting sat a lifeguard.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Christian Ladies of Wrestling

(A Novel Excerpt) by James Hanna

Author’s Note

Gertie McDowell, a naïve young girl with a talent for misadventure, has joined a women’s wrestling troop called Christian Ladies of Wrestling. The troop was put together by Wanda Sue, a bank robber with a streak of religion whom Gertie met while serving time because she “trusted the wrong sort of fella.” The mission of the troop is to bring folks closer to Jesus by having women posing as Christians beat the sin out of women posing as transgressors. Gertie’s wrestling persona is Haystacks Holly, a lustful temptress who needs a good punishing. The troop also includes three runaway girls: Cocheta, an Apache girl with sleeves of tattoos, and Sofia and Mia, a pair of sinewy migrant workers. 

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