Tag: memories

All Stories, General Fiction

Cheap Whiskey and a Crumpled Dollar Bill by Lee Conrad

literallystories2014

Russell Freeman, long white hair tied back, dressed in jeans and white cotton shirt, got off the bus and walked down a side street of the city he grew up in. He looked around and shook his head. Urban renewal in the late sixties had taken much of the character out of the center of the city and replaced it with parking ramps, cheap prefab buildings and fake facades. According to city elites the old sturdy brick buildings of the past were obsolete and old fashioned. We must look to a bright new future said the politicians as money flowed to demolition companies.  

“Renewal my ass,” Russell mumbled.

Continue reading “Cheap Whiskey and a Crumpled Dollar Bill by Lee Conrad” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Sea-bound Places I’ve Come to Know by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

Brocklebank, Warren’s Point, RI is this place I’ve come to snug between rolling lawn and touching sea of brawn with million years of wear on salted rocks. Oh, the sea talks to me endlessly. And someone else must live here, turned into secret rooms, corners of the house dim as catacombs, and hearth that says: “Aha, I am warm. I have seen the fire. Let him leave who must retire.” Whose legend is that? Who the scribe? What heat of heart? From what tribe? Oh, someone in times past who passed by in single file, one act born of seaward trial?

Continue reading “Sea-bound Places I’ve Come to Know by Tom Sheehan” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Nana Won’t Rise Up from the Dead by Margo Griffin

literallystories2014

I peel off the paint bottle’s seal, and a strong chemical smell wafts off the top. The scent reminds me of the hospital’s ICU corridors and the ache that filled my chest when my mother and I entered Room 520A to see Nana a few days before. I swirl around different colored paints and recreate the fiery orange sunset and the same brilliant blue sky from last year when Nana and I walked along the shore during our annual beach trip after Easter Sunday Mass. My little brother plunges without thought into his palette and haphazardly washes his brush against his egg’s shell. His designs turn out formless, and his colors mix into drab shades of brown and gray. He eyes my egg and then looks down at his, and his cheeks flush. His eyes flash in warning as his idea is hatched in seconds. Still, I don’t move fast enough and watch in horror as he smashes the Easter Egg I painted for Nana to the floor, sending pieces of memory flying through the air; these things are fragile. 

Continue reading “Nana Won’t Rise Up from the Dead by Margo Griffin” →
All Stories, Fantasy

The Vase by Dennis Kohler

literallystories2014

She bought it at the annual Presbyterian rummage sale. The small handwritten tag said 75 cents. The little girl who was watching the money box smiled at the 25 cent tip. In the end, they both got what they wanted. The little girl was a dollar closer to going to college, and the old woman got a small part of her childhood back.

Continue reading “The Vase by Dennis Kohler” →
General Fiction, Short Fiction

Behind this Stone by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

I’ve always listened to humming here in this old house of mine, thinking so many times from my early years that it was the universe humming, or the humming of the gods coming to sensitive me, especially in that period around my 12th year when my imagination ran wild.

Continue reading “Behind this Stone by Tom Sheehan” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Green Lizard Lounge by Nina Welch

literallystories2014

Two old lady best friends stand in front of the Green Lizard Lounge , est. 1955. Angie is tall with ample boobs. She has silver hair piled on top of her head stylishly. Lucy’s bleached curly hair makes her look younger than her 84 years. Neither of them dress like old ladies. Angie wears leggings, a black and white striped knit top, and black glittery Tom’s. Lucy wears a denim dress and sandals. They both shop at vintage thrift stores.

Continue reading “Green Lizard Lounge by Nina Welch” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Joe Harrington’s Wake by JD Clapp

literallystories2014

Darla pulled into the alley behind the bar and parked under the streetlight. Before she undid her seatbelt she sat in silence for a moment. She adjusted her rearview mirror and looked at her bloodshot eyes, the rims rubbed red from blotting tears. Over the two weeks since Joe Harrington dropped dead, Darla struggled as much with the prospect of her own future as much as her loss. The same thoughts ran over and over thumping her mind like a shoe in a dryer. I’m 64, I have no retirement savings, no real family. I need to keep working but my knees hurt all the time. How long can I keep this up? Her tiny self-chosen family had just lost their most stable member; she had lost her best friend and former lover. She took a make-up bag from her purse and went to work on her eyes.

Continue reading “Joe Harrington’s Wake by JD Clapp” →
All Stories, General Fiction

It Was Best Like This by Margarida Chagas

literallystories2014

They’re talking about me. I can’t hear the exact words, but I know it. Their eyes carefully shoot glances from time to time while their mouths move fast with worry and sympathy. I need someone to tell the doctor tomorrow that I don’t like this new medication. It makes my thoughts dizzy and my legs slower.

Continue reading “It Was Best Like This by Margarida Chagas” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Blue Heat by Susan DeFelice

literallystories2014

Neighbor, how we can talk of bone-on-bone arthritis woes, our children, and the Highlander’s muscles over the fence in less than ten minutes! Listen, I have a gift for you for watching over my house whenever I’m on a trip. It’s a bright blue pottery cup with hand-painted fuchsia flowers, suns, and lime green leaves swirling around it. It looks unusual here, but it isn’t in Mexico. Stores are crammed with that lovely pottery and delicate glassware splashed with chunky abstract designs straight from the impulsive mind of the painter.

Continue reading “Blue Heat by Susan DeFelice” →
All Stories

Hindsight and Occupational Choices by Michael Bloor

literallystories2014

I think it’s quite common for people to chat to their dead parents/spouse/buddies from time to time. In Andy’s case, he would chat to his dead dad, usually when the car was stuck in traffic. Andy’s dad had been a no-nonsense kinda guy and his contributions to these conversations tended towards telling Andy not to be so bloody daft; which advice Andy usually found helpful.

Continue reading “Hindsight and Occupational Choices by Michael Bloor” →