Since it is Christmas Day itself, we add a bonus story by our own Hugh Cron. It is not our object to deride those who have faith or get sentimental about the holiday. And Hugh’s The Perfect Personification of Religion states the true meaning of Christmas better than a fleet of Rudolphs. It is a tale of common decency and a priest who made himself holy through his dedication.
Continue reading “Bonus Christmas Rerun – The Perfect Personification of Religion by Hugh Cron”
Merry Christmas, even to the humbuggers. Today we present two in a series we call the Reruns of Christmas. James McEwan began this party yesterday, which will last through Sunday. And there will be no rest for the wicked because the new year begins with new stories next Monday.
Continue reading “Christmas Rerun – A Little Red Wagon, A Long Remembered Face by Tom Sheehan”
Merry Christmas Eve. And as foretold in yesterday’s post there will be Ghosts of Reruns past attending the site this week. Consider this very early site post by our friend James McEwan, a herald, who will lead off with this Rerun today, the first of nine replays over the next eight days. Enjoy!
Continue reading “Christmas Eve Rerun: The Lady in the Bauble by James McEwan”
Well here we are, Christmas. Today I choose to remember it well. My family used to include a Dachshund-Chihuahua mix named “Fang” who joined the team when I was in sixth grade (named after Phyllis Diller’s fictional husband). Fang was a fairly peaceful little guy but he hated Christmas trees. Every year he would attack the damn thing late at night at least once. His partner in crime “Rags,” a tiny Rat Terrier, would encourage Fang with little barks, but feign innocence when the light came on.
Continue reading “Week 460: Terminating The Tree With Extreme Prejudice and Welcome to the Holiday Rerun Fest”
The door opens, the day is warm and the sun is already rising burning off the last wisps of fog. The child moves over the threshold holding a tortilla she found in the pantry. Last week the food bank handed out tortillas and she had filled her backpack full of them. Tortillas were good with anything from beans to peanut butter. This morning it was plain but she did want to wake any of the guests from last night, still asleep on the floor.
Continue reading “Tea for Two by Rachel Sievers”
Yo, Skeevy! C’mere!
Skeevy!
Whatta you starin’ at me? You don’t like it when I call ya that in front of that skank you’re hittin’ on? (’Scuse me, honey, no offense.) Better I should call you Sir Vincent Schiavoni, your Royal Friggin’ Lordship? Get your ass over here, okay?
There you go. What’s ’a matter, you ain’t got time for your Uncle Sal no more? C’mon over to the end of the bar so we can talk.
Continue reading “Goomba Columbus by Lenny Levine”
Prologue
A psycho doesn’t need to explain her actions until the trial begins. And even then it is optional. Thus the answer to all things “Why?” in my make-believe land of Saragun Springs is almost always a case of a shrug and the words “shit happens”–a concept that is a byproduct of Free Will. Still, everything sounds fancier in Latin, and telling someone “Stercore Accidit ” gives one an air of scholarship; the following is a case of Stercore Accidit if there ever has been one.
Continue reading “The Giant Clock Radio by Leila Allison”
We often talk about getting lost in a book. It’s a beautiful idea. That someone’s prose is so convincing, so overwhelming that you lose touch with reality. One of my favourite authors of all time, the late great Sir Terry Pratchett, could make you believe. I was in awe of the Great A’Tuin, amused by the Unseen University and disgusted by the sluggish flow of the river Ankh through the capital city. But, much as I loved those books and the sites and sounds of the Discworld – how beautiful is the Rimfall?-I couldn’t honestly say I was lost in them.
Continue reading “Auld Author – The Bamboo Doctor by Stanley S. Pavillard by Diane”
Christmas is just around the corner and there is something that I want to ask.
I suppose I need to put in some sort of waver:
I, Hugh Cron have no thoughts either way but am interested to see if anyone has any comments.
Let me explain.
Continue reading “Week 459 – Love Affair Never Meant Tacky Merchandise, Is Basic Teaching Extinct And Ewan Links Two Souls Again.”
It was narrow, stuffed chock-a-block with all manner of drug-related paraphernalia. It was a ‘smoke and gift shop’ in name, but sold everything from oil burners to sexual performance-enhancing pills. At some point, there had been a debate on whether the store was allowed to stock condoms. But I was only half listening by that time. My first impression, when I had walked in on seeing the ‘now hiring’ sign, was that it was too brightly lit. The illumination was plain white light of the kind that seems to render everything naked. Everything from the owner’s greed to make money off people’s weaknesses to the stark depths people sank to, to fuel their addictions.
Continue reading “Beast of Burden by Tanushree Mukherjee”
literally stories 