Tag: literally stories

All Stories, General Fiction

A Coffee Shop Moment by Kevin Koyce

literallystories2014

Feigned screams and contrived hugs all round.  To look from a distance, you’d be forgiven in thinking that these two girls were sharing an overdue and heartfelt moment, borne out of a lifetime of uninvited separation.  They saw each other yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.  To be specific, with the efficiency and punctuality of German engineers, these two girls meet in this same café at 8am exactly, Monday straight through to Friday.  I’ll need to find a new café.  I’d rather not have to do so, as this cafe is a five-minute walk from where I work.  However, before I embark, I may as well enjoy what could be my last morning here and bask in my current surroundings.

Continue reading “A Coffee Shop Moment by Kevin Koyce” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Mutla Ridge by Martin Rosenstock

literallystories2014

He lowered the window an inch and the dry air now flowed past his temple. Though he had arrived in Kuwait five days ago, he was still feeling some jetlag edginess. The road stretched out flat and straight. Nature here had the color of an oatmeal cookie, most houses too. Some were a bit lighter in color, like an oatmeal cookie bleached in the sun. They formed an unbroken line right off the freeway, three-story facades with columns and small, frequently shuttered windows. None of this had been here back then. The country had come some way since Mr Sodamn Insane’s drubbing.

Continue reading “Mutla Ridge by Martin Rosenstock” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Why Demigods Roam Alone by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

What a silent, legless kick in the chest! A dead man afoot.

Here came a man I thought long dead, half smiling, book-laden, walking out of the library, not casually, not the least, but the way certain men leave libraries, loaded with surprise, excitement, a hope for new intelligence. Short of handsome he was, but rugged-looking for an older guy, a sense of confidence moving afoot. I thought, a man knowing what he wants and has his hands on it. In each arm nestled a clutch of books; rugged wrists and hands gripping the books tightly, his poplin jacket sleeves taut as ropes.

Continue reading “Why Demigods Roam Alone by Tom Sheehan” →

All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Bee by Rebecca Moretti

literallystories2014

It was early but the sun was already strong and high. In the distance, the road was shiny and sweaty as it curved between the red ground. It was going to be a hot day. In the East, the sun cast a hazy film over the hills. Lachman sat in the sultry shade of an olive tree as a single bee buzzed loudly and persistently around his head. He’d always found that bees were particularly drawn to him. Perhaps they knew how to spot a criminal.

Continue reading “The Bee by Rebecca Moretti” →

All Stories, General Fiction

The Dream-Dresser by S. A. Leavesley

literallystories2014

What the hell was she going to do? Claudia interrogated herself as she turned from the current strangeness of her reflection in the mirror to inspect her feelings. They were…she didn’t know how to describe them. Unsettled and unsettling? For the first time in twenty-five years, she scowled. Not only did she scowl, but her lips didn’t then pull automatically into a copycat expression of the person she’d last been with. The scowl didn’t feel right though, any more than her usual shape-shifting smile did. Or the unusual summer slacks and T-shirt she was wearing.

Continue reading “The Dream-Dresser by S. A. Leavesley” →

All Stories, Horror

Rattletrap by Jennie Boyes

literallystories2014

Welcome. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’d ask how you came to be here, but I know you can’t tell me. Do you know where we are? No? Well I suppose that is to be expected, so don’t be troubled. You were somewhere else, and now you’re here. That’s all.

Continue reading “Rattletrap by Jennie Boyes” →

All Stories, General Fiction

The Metal Box by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

It was so damn petty that not one person in the entire family really knew how or where or when the rift began. It was there just as suddenly as the January thaw, being felt, being known, but still in all somewhat unbelievable. And every one of us, to the last thinking one of us, looked to Grandfather John Templemore to perform the cure, re-forge family ties, focus attention to proper matters. Hadn’t that man accomplished, so many times, the near impossible? The wizened little man with the piercing blue eyes that could accost you or lay balm on your wounds. The white-bearded sage who reveled in poetry and masters of the language. The articulate stone mason, his trowel now put away, who knew Yeats better than the classicists. Saturday evenings, on his wide porch fronting on the town, or deep in the pocket of his kitchen, the fire at amble, he it was who took us spellbound into the magic of joy, crowding us with the language.

Continue reading “The Metal Box by Tom Sheehan” →