Tag: Short Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction

 A Little Red Wagon, a Long-remembered Face III by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

One Christmas many years ago there was for me one present from my parents, a little, done-over red wagon with a long hauling handle, and slatted sides. The sides were for extra cargo! For overload! The name, the logo, of the wagon has not stuck with me, but its ownership has. That the wounded wagon, from some wars of its own, had been touched-up, repainted, a bit of rust covered over, two wheels replaced, had no interest for me. Early and mid-Thirties had all ready made their impressionable slash in the mind of a seven-year old. This one, now, was mine!

Continue reading ” A Little Red Wagon, a Long-remembered Face III by Tom Sheehan” →
All Stories, General Fiction

What If? by Yash Seyedbagheri  

literallystories2014

My life is a sea of ifs.

What if I’d published this collection? if I’d studied harder? If I hadn’t shot off my mouth at home? What if I hadn’t eaten too many potato chips and drank too much Merlot?

On my thirtieth birthday, they all rise up like the ghosts of Christmas past, whispering. If, if, if, a hollowed-out word that sits next to me in the coffee shops, follows me on my nightly walks, snuggles too close to me.

I procure the biggest whiteboard possible. Eliminate ifs. Draw up concrete whens in lavender marker. No red markers bleeding with psychological pressure, thank you. I lay out goals and visions.

Continue reading “What If? by Yash Seyedbagheri  “ →
All Stories, General Fiction

Shake or Float? By David Lohrey

literallystories2014

I drove a 1963 Flamengo-orange Thunderbird, wore navy blue tennis shoes, and sat eating a banana split at the A&W. It was 1986. In White Haven, Tennessee, where truck drivers were thought to be rich, it was still considered a big deal to go to the movies. Girls looked forward to losing their virginity in the back row at the Malco Theatre.

Continue reading “Shake or Float? By David Lohrey” →
All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

An Evening at Sonia’s by Martin Rosenstock

literallystories2014

Howard Adams turned off the engine and gazed at the anthracite column of the high-rise. He counted the floors up to the ninth. The lamp by Sonia’s futon shone through the gauze curtains, a penumbra of warm yellow. Adams checked his watch. The haris, a young guy with a scruffy beard, might still be sitting behind the lobby desk. He would lift his head with a studiously blank expression when Adams walked past. The haris’s eyes would then follow the unbeliever to the elevator, well aware of the sins being committed in his building. The prayer bump on the haris’s forehead always caused a cramp in Adams’s solar plexus. Did the guy worry her at all? Sonia had flattened her mouth in that amused way of hers, half-closed her eyes, shaken her head—“I tip him well.”

Continue reading “An Evening at Sonia’s by Martin Rosenstock” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Hard-pressed My River Is by Tom Sheehan

literallystories2014

Even with a personality of its own, my Saugus River is hard-pressed to be itself… so many things have happened to it, on it, with it, because of it. Did I dream all these scattered events, these small terrors? Perhaps. I was dreamy as a boy, romantic as a young man, possessed now. Possessed.

Continue reading “Hard-pressed My River Is by Tom Sheehan” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Voice by Yash Seyedbagheri

literallystories2014

I try to leave Mom a voicemail. Again.

The voicemail cannot be delivered. Again. She always stores old voicemails. Always says you never know when they might come in handy. Especially if you’re in a jam and need proof that you communicated with X at Y time. Pre-empt the world.

Continue reading “Voice by Yash Seyedbagheri” →
All Stories, General Fiction

Christmas Lights Icicle Frost by Antony Osgood

literallystories2014

The year becomes indented, single-spaced, and winter edged with summer grammar. Every stamped boot is a syntax-wish for warmth, a yearning, for once upon a time, happy ever after, when things were and always will be, somehow, golden, likely better, bountiful, without end. Each shudder this morning is modified by such expectations. This is an English season to be endured.

Continue reading “Christmas Lights Icicle Frost by Antony Osgood” →
Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Jim’s Aunts by Hugh Cron.

ireneallison12

There’s always something that is both hidden and in plain sight at the same time in Hugh Cron’s stories, and Jim’s Aunts definitely has that quality in abundance. Although it is a short piece, all the words tell and the thing that it causes to form early on in the back of your head comes to light with the final sentence–even though it is also open ended.

Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Jim’s Aunts by Hugh Cron.” →
Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 344 – ‘Do You Want Super Sex? If It’s Aw The Same To You, A’ll Huv The Soup’, ‘No! No! Don’t Open The Door, Snake Hips Cotter Will Slither On Underneath’, And ‘For Everything In Life There Is Always A Beginning And An End. This Is The Tough Part, The Most Difficult Thing Is When You See The End Coming.’

gwencron

First off I need to apologise to Diane for having to set up a posting with the longest title ever! (Are you taking that as a challenge Leila??) They’re all quotes, the first two are difficult to find but the third one, the one that really does get to me is there and can be found.

12