Tag: literally stories

All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

Where the Dead Live by Jennifer Maloney

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My mother lives in the next town over, but she’s dead. My dead father lives with her.

Their house is small, and silent because it’s empty. The dead are quiet for the most part, although sometimes there is a sound like weeping in the bedroom and once the bathroom door slammed so hard it cracked and then there was a hole in it big enough to put your foot through, but it’s the just the wind, murmurs my mother, the same wind that skirls along her teeth, hissing through the dark cavern of her yawning jaw, a wind that bobbles my father’s empty skull and makes it nod along in agreement.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Good for the Garden by T.G. Roettiger

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In the low light of early evening, Micki Gehl strolled along the path that ran from her house to the first of her three chicken coops, tossing scratch feed to her hens. Chickens were the love of her life. Their attention provided all the affection she needed and their eggs, along with the apples from her orchard, provided all the income she needed. An extensive garden supplied most of her food. She smiled a bit to herself; she truly enjoyed her life.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Immortality By Frederick K Foote

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“Why, oh, why Negro niece, do you sit there on the steps and cry?”

“Oh, woe is upon me and ruthlessly rides me because my father, your brother, my mother’s husband, has died. And our weeping is without end.”

“Ah, but your father was 80 and 10. It was about time for the old Negro’s story to end.”

“True, true, but he will be gone, his voice and presence will be missed, his words will be longed for, and his absence will leave a great emptiness.”

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All Stories, sunday whatever

Sunday Whatever – Moanin’ at Midnight Dale Williams Barrigar

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This piece is a bit different and as we have come to expect from Dale it is fascinating and well informed. I had never heard of this piece of music but my instant reaction after reading this was to find it on Youtube and I can see exactly what the writer was saying. So here we have:

  Moanin’ at Midnight Dale Williams Barrigar

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Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

518: Toys and If I’ve Hit Girls in Leotards Once I’ve Done it a Million Times

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Toys

During my decade at Goodwill I had many jobs. I recall one fondly: Toy evaluation. It involved going through the massive amount of donated toys and separating the trash from the saleable.

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All Stories, Fantasy

Fledgling by Tammy Komoff

literallystories2014

“Mama said the feathers are my psychosis,” Ava says. Her gaze drifts away from me, down toward the red and blue dancing lights. I edge closer along the ledge. “Your ambulance looks like a toy from up here.” She picks at scabs covering her arms, with blood-encrusted fingernails.

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All Stories, Romance

The Ring by Donna Slade

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Gramercy Tavern has been a New York City staple since the early nineties. With a spacious bar and wonderful food it has set the gold standard for what casual, fine dinning should be. The restaurant is more formal than the bar but the bar food is just as delicious. Although… the pace in the dining room is different, with the kitchen and the patrons performing a type of Kabuki Theater. The waitstaff, with just the right amount of reverence to the kitchen, serves exquisite dishes to a discerning clientele and in return that clientele pairs each course with the absolute best wine, hand selected by the Sommelier on duty. You ask for their opinion out of respect for the food and they never disappoint. And in the end all pay homage to the shrine of Meyer/Anthony. The only problem with the dining room? There is always a second seating and no matter how well you behave, eventually you will need to leave.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Beyond the Bridges A Story by Susan Jennifer Polese

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Carmine stands silently beneath a mammoth black and white, chrome-framed photograph of a no-nosed beauty with a blunt cut in the back room of his salon. A pie slice of a building gilded in white wrought iron swirls, Mr. Carmine’s Beauty Palace stands between a pastel-colored dog grooming shop and a dimly lit deli/bookie-joint/pizzeria on a street corner in downtown Yonkers, New York. With yards of crushed velvet, flowing script lettering hand-painted on the double plate-glass doors and layers of gold leaf Mr. Carmine, himself, resides over the first, overstuffed, red velour chair. He sports an expensive, loose fitting khaki jumpsuit, and a pair of Italian, olive-green, eel skin loafers as he begins the day. Hazy sunshine filters through the mauve miniblinds as disconnected images fill his mind: business, past lovers, today. He sighs.  He hears his first customer enter the shop.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Adverse Possession by Ted Gross

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Ed liked to blame the couch, though there was more to it, but that part didn’t help.

What Kaitlyn did, she went out and spent four thousand dollars on it, and then when they delivered the thing it didn’t fit in the elevator. Ed watched them try removing the little ceiling panel, which he didn’t even know came off, but even so they couldn’t angle it in.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Crossing the Bridge with Thomas Tallis by Mick Bloor

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The minister, at her desk between afternoon meetings, took up the next set of documents requiring her attention. Her usual practice, following that of all government ministers, was to read firstly the summary prepared by her civil servants. Only occasionally and in dire need, would she then read the full report. This did not signify any lack of diligence on her part. Indeed, the work of the Scottish Government would’ve shuddered to a halt if ministers had insisted on reading every document that crossed their desks from first page to last. But on this occasion, she read the summary and immediately then read the full report, re-reading some passages and asterisking two or three sentences. Uncharacteristically, she was then ten minutes late for her next meeting.

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