A regular contributor to the site Dave Henson has had a root through the back rooms and come up with this gem from Leila Allison. This is what he said:
Tag: literally stories
Week 212 – Questionable Stains, Underlying Secrets And Drinking Chemicals
Here we go again!
This is posting number 212.
These weeks come and go in what seems to be a good seven days.
There are some things that I miss as they aren’t done anymore. (Having a life, being bothered and reasons for living have always been debatable so I am ignoring them!)
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A Pill to Love, A Pill to Forget, A Pill to Live Forever by L’Erin Ogle
I walk to work under a dull gray sky. Last I heard, there was still blue sky somewhere above Alaska. My brother and his wife went there, to live off the grid. I am gridlocked, travelling the same two miles back and forth every day. Work, home, work, home.
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Standstill by Lida Papasokrati
Rain is pounding on the cobblestones of Place Luxembourg as people cluster to the bars around the square for an after work drink. Colorful umbrellas alternate with newspapers hastily turned into makeshift headgear and the occasional “Merde!” can be heard when a passing car splashes water on a pedestrian.
Through Amazed Eyes by Leila Allison
It’s three feet farther to hell from New Town Bridge. The city recently installed an eighteen-inch “safety” extension to the pedestrian rail. Since it opened in 1978, at least twenty persons have jumped off the ugly gray span and found death waiting two-hundred feet below in the beckoning Philo Bay Narrows. Northern seas swiftly kill the pain; and when that comforting certainty outweighs the threat of damnation, I don’t see another foot and a half up, and down, getting in the way.
An Engagement by Michael Hyde
The scene is set on the top floor of an old greystone apartment in Chicago’s North Side, the windows of which look out to a black Lake Michigan. Two plates sit on a pub table. One is cleaned and on the other half a pasta portion remains. The diners have taken the wine to the couch, where they are presently reposed; John with his feet up on the coffee table, Lauren with her legs across his lap, her head on a pillow on the far side. Sinatra plays faintly from a speaker, about the same volume as the crackling fire across them. John reads and Lauren thinks. But then….
From His Perspective by Lisa Keeble
“Have we got any biscuits? I’m feeling a bit peckish”
“You’re not peckish, you’ve only just had lunch. You’re just bored; you know you don’t like it when it’s too quiet in the factory”
Literally Reruns – A Shaggy Crow Story
Well now here’s a favourite – Leila has been hi-jacked by Nik’s wonderful character Stormcrow – I reckon he either sweet-talked her or knocked her over with a feather – anyway this is what she said.
Week 211 – Second Person, Tense Picking And Unforgivable Lines.
Here we are at Week 211.
I have had a bit of inspiration on my topics for this post.
Instead of me spouting my usual inane shite, I do have some more technical aspects to discuss.
Continue reading “Week 211 – Second Person, Tense Picking And Unforgivable Lines.”
The Tale of Thomas O’Clery by Jessica Powers
There is no such thing as mundane disbelief on the wretched, glittering streets of New Orleans. No doubt lives among the connoisseurs of gin and light. No hesitation hides behind distorted Mardi Gras masks, only creatures moving lithely through the crowd of wayward travelers. The city breathes in a cacophony of sound. Even the steel factory rattles distantly, like a drum beat. Yet, as Thomas O’Clery stood in the braking trolley car, inhaling the piss and bourbon stench of the city, he felt only a cold numbness. Neither the driverless carriages, or the preternatural weight of hot summer jazz, like a voodoo queen’s curse, could frighten or arouse him. Not anymore.
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