The wonderful Leila Allison is keeping us well supplied with Rerun suggestions and they are all superb choices. Thank you so much Leila. This is what she had to say about November Moon:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – November Moon by Sharon Frame Gay”
Another superb ‘Rerun’ choice by L’Erin Ogle – this time it is by K Barrett and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – The Girl Who Became a Goose – by K Barrett”
This is a story from way back in the mists of time. Adam West’s Everything Happens for a Reason is another one chosen by the brilliant Leila Allison and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Everything Happens for a Reason by Adam West”
I see the guitar case first, full more of hope than of the hard currency of shining coins. The kid sits on the pavement, half-hidden in the shadow of a low granite wall. He’s doing a pretty fair rendition of Hey Joe, working a beat-up acoustic guitar. The thing needs new strings, but he’s getting it done. That strange magic, the universal language of rock lyrics, washes away the kid’s Austrian accent. The chords walk down the neck, Joe kills his woman, the crowd ignores the kid.
A bedraggled and harassed Leila Allison threw this message as she galloped passed on a wild looking steed. She had scooped up Mourning Becomes Her by Frederick K Foote and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literary Reruns – Mourning Becomes Her by Frederick K Foote”
Another of our regular contributors has chosen work to be ‘Rerun’ and it’s a beauty. L’Erin Ogle pulled The Dreampurple Light from under the floorboards and this is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – The Dreampurple Light by Leila Allison”
These were more than echoes, the soft sounds I was hearing from the rear of the barn sitting back from Route 182 in Franklin, Maine, half a dozen fat pigs to one side, corn as deep as Iowa on the other side, and the terrain across the road flush with blueberry bushes until a slow rise tipped the landscape in its favor… and in mine. In my son Tim’s favor, too. He lives by this barn. Perhaps I had lived waiting for its sassy voices.
Continue reading “Talk from the Back of Tim’s Barn by Tom Sheehan”
Pineapple yoghurt. Trifle. The last few months he wanted milky things. I bought a bottle of Rémy Martin. He took a sip, made a face. ‘It’s too much now, too strong. I’m sorry,’ he said.
Leila Allison has dug deep now into the archives and rooted out a gem from the early days with a story by June Griffin. This is what she said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Margaret’s Mementos by June Griffin”
The unerring radar of Leila Allison has rooted out this strong and moving piece from our very own Hugh. This is what she said: Continue reading “Literally Reruns -The Perfect Personification of Religion by Hugh Cron”
