Our house has no windows. On winter mornings, I leave in downpours and darkness at six, then return in the brooding grey of twilight. Sometimes your car is here and sometimes it’s not. On the evenings when you’re around we eat supper in silence, chewing food without flavour. I’m never hungry any more, either. We scrape more food into the dustbin than either of us eat. You take to the sofa behind the barrier of your phone, tapping out messages to whoever. I take the armchair and read books I’ve read before.
Tag: life
What would Breslin have thought? by Adam Kluger
Breslin was dead now. Undeniably so. All you had to do was go back and read some of the old columns to see the talent and anger and originality. He was just another one who had made his mark and moved on.
Continue reading “What would Breslin have thought? by Adam Kluger”
The Days of Heroes by Melodie Corrigall
Until a week ago Christopher thought it was all coming together. After the incident with Melina and his boss’ reaction to it, he knew it was all coming apart. What to do? His brother-in-law, an addict forever in search of a quick cure, presently touted the “The Stages of Change” system, as a guide to better health. Christopher couldn’t remember the fancy names they used but put simply they were phases describing your state as you advanced from an unhealthy (or in his case unprincipled) behavior to a healthier one.
Week 121 – Right…Wrong…Or Fred
A wee change. Review first, then explanation…Then a treat…A Saturday story!!
Let us first consider our stories of the week.
We only had one new author, that is a bit sparse of late but we never squelch on quality as our repeated writers continue to ooze talent.
We have the usual eclectic mix including clowns, a repetition, ghosts, a common fear and a musical machine that we all want to see!
Pooboogle by Adam Kluger
The delivery guy from Arturo’s Italian Restaurant had a sixth finger. It waved about like a little pink antenna. Horace always gave him a big tip and tried not to stare at it. They would link eyes and smile at each other. There was a tacit agreement not to stare at the unusual little digit —and to tip big…and move on. Every time that Horace ordered from Arturo’s he forgot about the delivery guy. The chicken parmesan was so outstanding that the gross-out factor at the door was but a minor inconvenience.
Top of the Line by Marissa McNamara
Melanie’s boyfriend Ray began drinking as soon as he moved in. At first it was just a few after work. Then it was four, maybe six. She liked to cook, but he always wanted to go out. She was tired of every restaurant within 10 miles, but whatever, he paid. He always made a big deal of paying. Pulled out his worn brown wallet, the one he said was “top of the line.” He always said that. His things were “professional grade” and “top of the line.” He “spared no expense.”
Closure by Mary J. Breen
The parking lot was filling up around me, their headlights bouncing off my rear-view mirror. I sat gobbling my maple-dip donut and watching one old person after another make their way towards the lighted pathway. Just ahead of me, a tiny couple launched themselves out of an ancient white Cadillac, linked arms, and rocked away in unison, picking their way around the frozen puddles. The clock on the dashboard said 7:37; I couldn’t delay it any longer. All I had to do was get through the wake tonight and the funeral tomorrow and I could be gone by lunch. Short and sweet. Hello Gerald. Good-bye Roberta. And no time to talk about Paul.
Scotch on the Rocks by Bruce Levine
I wanted to laugh. I had no idea why. There was no apparent reason, but I had an inordinate desire to laugh.
It had been a strange day.
Drag by Patrick Winters
Taking one last drag, Joe flicked the butt between his fingers out into the yard. He weaseled out his keys, unlocked the front door, and stepped inside his house. The old man was waiting for Joe the moment he walked into the kitchen.
The Louder You Scream by Martyn Clayton
Every girl loves a showman reckoned Big Micky Taverne.
Stand behind their car as the waltzer takes a group of them up and down. Watch as they huddle up, heads rested on shoulders, screaming in unison. One if not all will be giving you the glad eye, willing you on. Come on they’re saying, give us a spin. So, you do and they scream so loud it would burst your eardrums if they weren’t already bust from the music.
