All Stories, General Fiction

Teaching You to Know by Sarah Walker

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I stop explaining aloud to my children that I am not lonely.

I used to tell them these things as if they would understand automatically. I’m not lonely when I lie down at night and fall asleep with five fluffy pillows surrounding my head. Or when I wake up, make my way to the kitchen—the red and white tile floor cold under my feet—and stare out across the green lawn and watch the birds eat from the feeder and sing into the morning light. Even when I eat almost every meal alone, I do not yearn for someone to sit beside me. Instead, I enjoy my breakfast, lunch and dinner outside on the patio and throw the remains of my meals in the lawn and look forward to watching the deer find the hidden treasures.

I give my children the simple answer now when they ponder and poke. “You know what the doctors said. I should spend this time how I want and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

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Latest News

Literally Stories – Week 50

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A year is a long time.  Well a good three hundred and sixty-four days.  If you don’t believe me multiply the seven days we have in a week with the fifty-two weeks in the year. Anyhow, I mention the year as that is the time that has passed since our first ‘Post’ was published.  I wonder if Jenny Morton Potts realises that she is now part of our history?

We have had a ball.  It hasn’t always been easy.  To be truthful the submission numbers have at times been a bit of a disappointment and sometimes a struggle.  We have always kept true to our initial ideals.  We have only published what we thought was either interesting, unique or edgy. If we got all three of those, we were delighted.  The writing always had to reach the standard that we insisted on.

So to all who we have published, to all the friends that we have made and to everyone who has submitted, we can’t thank you enough!!!  It has been a pure privilege.  We hope that you have enjoyed this past year and being a part of the site.

Now to The Anthology!

We are delighted to be associated with this. This book is a  representation of the versatility of the stories from the site.

I think all of us who have worked on this must thank Diane especially.  She has worked like a wee Trojan Beaver Bee.  Her knowledge and input has been invaluable. She has grafted away for days on this and as I say, we must all thank her for her patience, skill and professionalism.

We have posted a page on the dynamics of the charity and would like to thank ‘The Book Bus’ for it’s acceptance of our proceeds.  Believe it or not, it is sometimes difficult to give money away!!  We wish them every success and hope we raise some awareness and funds for them.  Please help with a few purchases. The links and information regarding how to buy a copy is at the end of this post.

Now onto our stories.  Myself and Diane have put ourselves out there again. Fred Foote and Des Kelly have contributed.  Please check out their stories this week and their back catalogue as they are two very versatile and skilled writers.  We have a newbie to the site. Karl McDermott is a master of the short sentence.  His witty story is worth a look and we are sure that he will also have a back catalogue soon.

I hope that on the 17th you all join me and my fellow editors and take a moment to pour out a huge drink of your choosing, look to the sky and toast the site that is Literally Stories.  We will then look to the heavens and toast each and every one of you!!!  Our respective Ambulance Services are on standby.

THE ANTHOLOGY: OPPORTUNITY TO PURCHASE:

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So, yes it’s been hard work and time-consuming because we wanted it to be as good as we could make it.  Out of respect for our wonderful authors and to ensure that anyone who buys this will feel that they have bought a well presented collection of short fiction.  We hope that you approve.  For those of you who have pre-ordered — thank you and for anyone else this will be available for purchase from all Amazon marketplaces on our Anniversary 15th November.   Get it for your Kindle, your phone, your computer, your cat — oh your cat doesn’t have an iPhone — No problem.  In response to several requests we decided to take the extra step and publish the book in Paperback and so you can also have a copy to hold in your hand.  As with the e-book the proceeds from sales go directly to The Book Bus.  So, if you want a happy cat order your copy either from Amazon or directly from Createspace it’s your choice .  We do hope you like it.

Huge thanks are due to Angela at studioanjou for making us a beautiful all round genuine cover.

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A final note — the book is also enrolled in the matchbook programme on Amazon so if you buy both you get a “deal” one for reading and one to brighten up your coffee table!!

What’s not to like?

All Stories, General Fiction, Humour

Sonny Dodds – The Magical Years by Hugh Cron – Adult Content

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Foreword.

And so it came to pass –

It turned out Fly Mary was telling the truth in her lies about ‘The Second Coming’. The upstairs neighbour had been a Jaffa and Sonny was who she lied he was.

The question on god wanting to shag a skanky, cider drinking, random hoor has never been considered.

This is the story of one specific day in the life of Sonny and his morning resurrection.

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All Stories, General Fiction

If Only by Diane M Dickson


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It was a tiny spot really, just a smear of grease.  Possibly it was the remains of a little squashed fly, snuffed out in the middle of its existence, hmm, maybe.  I tried to ignore it, I turned away but each time I passed it was there and it called to me, mocking me. Huh – you think you’re perfect well look you left a smear, you left the innards of a tiny creature daubed across the glass, spread over the shiny, newly cleaned window.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Dead Air by Joseph Novak

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Transcript from Session 04 of 9/22/10
Patient: Mr. Gregory Wright
Age: 25
Sex: Male
Race: White
Condition: Severely distressed, recently involved in a traumatic event (accidental homicide)
Session Conducted by Dr. Harold Hill
Time Start: 2:59 PM

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All Stories, General Fiction

True Love At Last by Frederick K. Foote – Adult Content

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Shaken to the core, foundation rattled; defenses breached, exposed, weakened, bloodied. He did it. Him walking away.

That colored boy did it. He got her new 1962 Buick out of a tight spot. Assistance not requested or desired. Walked away on her thank you. Turned his back on her. Turned back to her. Yelled, “Hey!” and she turned, faced him. He took her face in his hands, not gently, and smashed his lips against hers, rough lips, chapped and hard; bruised her lips against her teeth. Drew blood and walked away.

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Latest News

Literally Stories – Week 48

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I am listening to Icelandic Electronica/House giants GusGus 2011 album Arabian Horse.

It makes me wonder.

About all sorts.

But nothing to do with Week 48 at Literally Stories, I hear you say?

Not literally hear. And no Arabian Horse doesn’t have anything to do with Week 48. And yes I concede musical references are an unimaginative standby for producing out of thin air suitable talking points by which to segue seamlessly into this, that or the other. And no I shouldn’t make a habit of beginning my sentences with conjunctions lest I be hauled into custody by the Grammar Police.

Which leads me to the weakest of weak links: serial grammar felony is not an accusation you could level at any of Week 48’s authors.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Before We Started Worrying by Martyn Clayton

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This was before we all started worrying about skin cancer. If you got burnt early doors the rest of the holiday you’d slowly turn brown. It was a holiday rite of passage, something to anticipate and dread.

There’d been talk of a bloom of jellyfish what with the warmer waters. Colin was standing in the sea up to his knees poking at them with the sharp end of his metal spade. It’s easy to say with hindsight that there was something vindictive about the boy. You read people backwards, fill in the gaps, squeeze the facts to fit what the present throws up. I can’t help recalling what I saw in the boy, seeing him with a magnifying glass burning ants in the sunshine. He’d capture crane flies in a jam jar, seal the lid and watch them flap frantically against the glass before collapsing still and exhausted. Only then would he lift the lid and slowly pull off their wings and legs before rolling the body into a ball between his thumb and forefinger. Jim says that lots of kids did that sort of thing but you still wonder.

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