Leila has chosen a rerun by another really supportive author and visitor to the site. We are all fans of Mitchell and so this is what she said:
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Tag: Short Fiction
Week 257 – Misplaced Logic, Motivation And A Meltdown.
Well here we are at Week 257.
There’s been many a time when we’ve commented on an unsuccessful submission and stated that there was no emotion. Or that the emotion wasn’t strong enough. We’ve never once stated that the emotion was too over the top.
That realisation gave me the idea for today’s posting.
Continue reading “Week 257 – Misplaced Logic, Motivation And A Meltdown.”
The Authoress and the Candlehufft: A Feeble Fable of the Fantasmagorical By Renfield Stoker-Belle (Leila Allison)
Spread the word!
Nick Carroway is no longer so great and Ishamel is sunk. Forget the guys who claim to tell a truthful tale yet never mention that they do not exist anywhere but in books. For I, Renfield Stoker-Belle, am a made up person who knows she is a Fictional Character (FC)–and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
This Death by Margaret LaFleur
He found her sitting in a tree. Her legs dangled over the edge, her dusty feet kicking back and forth. It had taken him a while to find her. It wasn’t as simple as it usually was. Each hourglass of life came with coordinates, of course. The tiny numbers ascribed on the bottom gave approximate locations. It wasn’t a perfect system. Humans weren’t as predictable as, say, ants. Things had gotten tricky when they domesticated the horse, for example. It had gotten worse with the engine. Obviously airplanes had kicked things into gear. But the hourglass makers, those bright-eyed creatures, were quick to adjust. They usually got it in the ballpark.
For Thee by Chella Courington
Wednesday at Chaucer’s I was digging through the fiction for a Christmas Eve book. Pulled Elizabeth Hardwick’s Sleepless Nights from the shelf when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I turned to face an older man in a gray sweater, the kind with a ribbed neck, and a salt and pepper beard.
The Saugus at Odd Hours, Odd Times by Tom Sheehan
1.
The river here heaves up on the bank like an old man getting into bed.
Birds cry downstream. A gull perfects a theft, executes drastic turn in air that could break bones. I do my duty walks like perimeter guard, shoulder walking cudgel the way I carried my carbine back there at 23, know the pound of it to an ounce; knowledge of the scabbard hangs on.
I’d rather the river and the tired water’s run as 86 years weigh a heavy canteen. Nothing is like a river’s to and fro against this sea, tide-wash, catch of kelp, air sting full of briny sea’s salad smells, perpetual anger, always earth-dig, sand-flush and rock-wear, drag on the moon, where a ship’s ghost and canvas call.
Continue reading “The Saugus at Odd Hours, Odd Times by Tom Sheehan “
Literally Reruns – the Rise and Fall of Johnny Thunders by Adam Kluger
Leila has chosen a piece by one of the ‘old timers’ to the site. We are pleased to see Adam being featured here and I for one do hope that he answers her second question. This is what she said:
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Week 256 – Invading Illuminati, Imbalance And Pastimes For Pricks.
Hello there folks.
Another week bites the dust and we’ve reached posting number 256.
Continue reading “Week 256 – Invading Illuminati, Imbalance And Pastimes For Pricks.”
Hardwood by Jeremy Salo
The kids in town nearly ignored marijuana altogether; they moved straight to heroin. They smoke it off of aluminum foil and to them it’s like taking communion. Not many shoot it, perhaps because they’re afraid of explaining away the marks during gym class.
Samphire Lighthouse by Tracy Gaughan
He put the button on her tummy. ‘Breathe now Hetty’ he said, ‘and watch the button … that’s what it’s like for a boat, going up and down on the sea.’
literally stories 