Tag: Short Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

Len Cordy & The Lollipop Guild by Shane Bolitho

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Toothpick balanced on his lip, just so. Hair slicked down with practiced precision. But despite the evil eye and air of menace he fancied he gave off, Rachel Duccini couldn’t help but smile. Gerard Marron, for all his sneering attempts at brooding ominousness, reminded her a hell of a lot of the Lollipop Guild Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. The way he squinted, the pant legs too short to cover his ankles, and the way he had his hands in his pockets, thumbs out pointing at each other across his groin.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Cor Pulmonale by Todd Levin

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I always had trouble seeing the signs despite the signs always pointing in the right direction. One day I left home and walked down to the next town and decided not to walk back. As it turned out this was a place that didn’t have signs and I was alone.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Horses Riding in upon the Waves by Des Kelly

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Sitting atop dunes looking out across the sea with wild breakers racing in like horses riding in upon the waves, keeping a watch for invaders; wild berserk axe men steering their longboats ashore to pillage, rob and kill.

The wild breeze whips the surface off the sand to send it spiralling like a crazy snake all across the ground; with sea weed patches scattered never to be redefined, spits and spots of rain cascade in the wind, some of it salt and some ill-defined.

Diving beneath the cover of walls built by hard faced men long vanished from the earth, searching out the hollows, collecting pebbles for one last dash & defence towards the approach to Castle keep, splashing through fast flowing water, scattering fat sheep and whooping a warning the boy drops breathless and excited onto the sandy soil.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Aunt Miranda by Diane M Dickson

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When the blow first fell it was devastating.  Grandfather roared and blustered around the rooms.  He used words such as wanton and strumpet.  Strumpet, it’s a ridiculous word, it doesn’t fit, sounds silly and theatrical.  There was nothing silly about the situation and if it was theatrical it was a Tragedy.

Mummy and Nana sat in purse lipped silence.  Their hands wrung and squeezed, white knuckles straining against aging, tightened skin. Aunt Miranda was “In Trouble, Disgraced, a Ruined Woman.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Red Ribbons by Des Kelly

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Red ribbons floating on the water. A hand sticking up from the deep. A cold plunge into nothingness. The sky so large, and he so small upon the summer lake. The rise and fall of a voice calling out for help…

The dark descending; too little comfort in the night…

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Phil’s Last Journey by Diane Dickson

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When the willow fell it swept to the surface of the engorged torrent in a graceful swoon.  The roots wrenched from the ground flinging mud, pebbles, small boulders and the moss and grass of the bank skywards.  The whipping branches flew across the water to be grabbed and hurled downstream till their anchorage on the great trunk stayed them.  They streamed in the flood, tempestuous ribbons squirming and writhing in the wild water.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Sweet Surrender by Diane M Dickson

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She knew that when it came time to count the money she’d be found out. The afternoon had wound on interminably and the first crime had been followed by the next and the next and the next.  Now she was so heavily committed to the misdeed that there was no way out.

Of course, as with so many of these things, it wasn’t her fault. If you really thought about it the one to blame, the one who should be standing here now on the brink of disaster, his stomach churning and heart flip-flopping was Mr Stevens. Her old boss, Stinky Stevens, he of the underarm white stains and the halitosis from hell. If he hadn’t been such a stupid, incompetent business man then his little caravan re-fitting business wouldn’t have folded. If the firm hadn’t folded then she, Lorraine, would still have a job as book-keeper, a proper job with a wage, a coffee mug and a finishing time.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Humour

The Greatest Cock that Ever Lived by David Louden

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I was fifteen, it was April and the summer had started early. My mother gave me ten pounds to run to the parade of shops at the bottom of the Oldpark Road to buy two steaks and some mince to fry into burgers for the dog’s dinner. Dragging myself away from the television I threw on my trainers, laced up, pocketed the banknote and walked down to the bottom of The Bone. I passed many people, they all knew me. I said hello to them all before suddenly someone was calling my name from outside the Suicide Inn.

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