Once upon a time, there lived a community called Ingbian, meaning “Relatives.” The community was called so because they did things together in one accord. They were deeply rooted in their traditional beliefs and had not embraced the gospel early. They worshipped multiple gods, often visiting shrines and performing rituals. Many of the community members were so engrossed in their spiritual practices that they engaged in astral projection at night.
Continue reading “The Cursed Tree of Ingbian by Torsaa Emmanuel”Tag: literally stories
Over the Top by David Lyons
I hear the curlew flying low over the misty bog on a late summer’s evening. The air is damp with dew and the shadows are black beneath the tall whitethorn hedges. A lone cow calls out for her calf in a field beyond view and then stops suddenly as her charge drains the pressure from her elder.
Continue reading “Over the Top by David Lyons”Cycle by Frederick K Foote
I was a son of segregation born in a small Virginia village. My heritage was discrimination without the possibility of assimilation.
At age six, on my first day at our all-Black school, I played the fool and set myself down beside a strange, weird creature named Bernice Lighthorse.
Continue reading ” Cycle by Frederick K Foote”Just for Now by Tom Sheehan
My son Jamie brought me to all my treatments at the hospital in Danvers, a 7-minute drive for him as he says for more than three years (I am loaded with many ailments of various kinds) and I always noticed a lady who brought her father for his appointments, but dressed as though she was going to a ball, a fancy dress, and a marvelous pair of legs that could dance her across Broadway in her day, being the knockout she was, and carried yet a boatload of her beauty into a few years of time.
Continue reading “Just for Now by Tom Sheehan”The Return to the Lakehouse by Adam Kluger
The meme had been replaying again and again in Booger’s mind.
“They are eating the cats, eating the dogs, eating the pets in Springfield.”
It was about 50 days away from a quite consequential presidential election.
Bugowski was pushing 60 and he was just as big a mess as he always was.
“Have you read the secret life of plants?” Rooster asked Booger as they unloaded the cooler full of Pabst Blue Ribbon, Poland Spring with lime (the most carbonated of all seltzers) and all the other boxes, bags and items for another guy’s weekend. “The plants communicate through chemical emissions, I read an excerpt…not surprising given their predominant place on the planet and the way they all live together harmoniously…beautifully, really.”
Continue reading “The Return to the Lakehouse by Adam Kluger”
Literally Reruns – Harrison Kim
To date Harrison Kim has published more than thirty stories on the site. Each one is completely different from the others and yet there is a common thread of humanity in all.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Harrison Kim”Week 541: They Are Dripping Me Insane
Insanity
I have lived in the same apartment since October 1998. That was not by design, but it has worked out that way. Until I settled here, I had not lived in one space longer than four consecutive years, including childhood. Something always happened; nothing has yet to happen here. The building was sold last year, but it was just a case of meeting a new boss, the same as the old boss.
Continue reading “Week 541: They Are Dripping Me Insane”Lizzie by Richard Hulse
As the hot afternoon ticked by, Lizzie thought they wouldn’t show. Then, far off, a vehicle coming down that dusty road. A car, not a truck.
It got closer and the passenger door was opening even before it stopped. Then Charlene was out and running to Lizzie, and Lizzie, she was jumping straight into her big cousin’s smile. Both of Charlene’s hands were on either side of Lizzie’s face.
‘Oh, I’ve missed you!’ said Charlene. ‘You been all right, baby? Have you?’
Continue reading “Lizzie by Richard Hulse”Potato Salad and Mixed Drinks by Christopher Ananias
I moved the boiling eggs to the cold burner. Hopefully Edward wasn’t lactose intolerant. I was making my famous potato salad. The newscaster sounded solemn—something about a landslide—Indonesia or somewhere. Then almost musically, “Onto the local murders.”
Continue reading “Potato Salad and Mixed Drinks by Christopher Ananias”Is There Anybody There? By Michael Smith
Acacia knew her calling from the age of ten. Noticing all her clothes were labeled ‘MEDIUM’ and, being a highly impressionable girl, she naturally assumed the universe, or possibly a parallel one, was offering a clear hint as to her correct career path.
Continue reading “Is There Anybody There? By Michael Smith”
