Long-time friend of the site and excellent writer David Henson has sent us a submission for the Sunday Feature – thank you David. The lovely Leila has been the mainstay of this feature for such a long time that it is brilliant to see her with her own Literally Rerun.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Time and Chance Happeneth to All Gods by Leila Allison”
I never plan these. I never know what I’m going to write. I will look up a reference if for some reason one comes to me but I don’t start out with a plan.
Sometimes there are some things that happen on the site or in the news that I make a mental note to saying something. (Today is an example as I knew that there was something!!)
Continue reading “Week 397 – Winging It, Truss’s Truss And I Didn’t Have Time To Look At Religion.”
Fuck me Ah’m pished!!
…How much shite can Ah talk tae myself?
Dae ye ken, Ah pride mysel’ oan it!
Ah look at this photo of you ma auld gran and Ah ken Ah can tell you things. Ah fuckin loved ye and ye spoilt me rotten!
Continue reading “Bravado by Hugh Cron”
Emma was lying in the park between my dorm and mid-afternoon lecture and if it hadn’t been for the fact she was feeding birds with the grin of the manic and magnificent I may have continued my stride.
Continue reading “We’ll Both Forget The Breeze by Michael Tyler”
Mriya
To the boy it looks like a ravaged animal. Its head ripped-off, body torn apart with stringy guts hanging out. Scattered chunks of flesh strewn around the barren hangar.
“Thank God your grandfather is not here to see this,” the boy’s mother says. “He wanted to watch it take off one last time.”
Continue reading “Mriya by George Nevgodovskyy”
It was really a love story in the end.
The noise outside was consistent. Traffic, construction, and wandering conversations as New Yorkers enjoyed the relative peace of Memorial Day Weekend in the city. But for Steve, the owner of the New Amity Restaurant, it was the end.
Continue reading “It was really a love story in the end by Adam Kluger”
Right now it is Tuesday, 31 May 2022, 1:51 A.M. PDT in the Puget Sound region in the U.S.A. Due to some slow typing, errors and the run of time itself it is now 1:54, but all the other conditions are the same. Several months will pass before this is read on a Sunday morning. And, as always, people such as I, will operate on the assumption that the world will still be here and everyone we know is still in it in the relatively near future.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns -Retinitis Pigmentosa by Tobias Haglund”
I like fall, but I avoid saying “I like autumn.” I went to school with a girl with that name and hated her. I wouldn’t want the little god whose job it is to check up on the likes and dislikes of people like me to get confused. So, to be clear, I like autumn, but not the Autumn I knew in seventh grade.
But there are things about fall I can do without; for instance, grownups who wear “onesies,” and those who get as excited as a three-year-old seeing Santa for the first time when the subject is “pumpkin spice.” Usually these people are one and the same. I will hear no defense for normal adults who wear onesies with little fire trucks and/or race cars, Bunnies, Unicorns, Cows, Green Aliens and Sea “Horseys” on them and must tell me about it. What you do at home is your own business, but unless you want me to wonder if you wear a “dype-dype” and rubber panties to bed, don’t bring it up, especially if I am eating.
Continue reading “Week 396: Stumbling Leaves; Another Week That Is; Autumnal Vexations”
Rabbit man is belted into the traction machine at the physiotherapist’s clinic. His giant Easter Bunny costume head is hooked on the coat rack with the rest of the suit. He’s been hired by Mall Supervisor Frats to greet the Great Wizard and her children here in Munyayka.
Continue reading “The Rabbit Man of Munyaka by Harrison Kim”
I entered my building’s courtyard at dawn on a clear, cold November morning. I brought a bowl of tuna and a cat trap. I placed the bowl at a specific spot under one of the two box hedges that lined the walk and laid the trap nearby. Every morning I brought food to the same place; it was the trap’s only appearance.
I’d come for the benefit of a feline warlord in winter named Lemmy. I’d been feeding Lemmy on the sly ever since I first met him in the courtyard at least three years ago. Obviously feral, I appreciated the defiance in his attitude that wouldn’t allow him to beg. Oh, he certainly gobbled down what I gave him and shamelessly came back for more–but not once had he ever sought pity.
Continue reading “Whatever It Is, I’m Against It by Leila Allison”
