All Stories, Fantasy

A Snowman at Christmas by dm gillis

 

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The snowman smiled. He was driving a ’72 Lincoln with the windows down and the A/C on full. He smoked Kools and drank frosty cold cans of beer. The Stones played on the eight track. It was December 24th.

The Voice was speaking to him. It had been all afternoon. It was the same Voice he’d been hearing since he’d opened his bottle cap eyes and walked off of the abandoned lot of his birth. The Voice had told him to steal the car. It was nameless. The one that whispered. Sometimes it even spoke backward, as though in tongues. Now it was saying, “Smoke, drink and drive fast, for snowmen melt sooner rather than later. We have seen the future, and you are not a part of it.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Song Writer by Ronald J Friedman

 

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He’d burned the titles of his hit songs into the planks that formed the stall where he kept his favorite horse, a high-stepping Paso Fino of no particular value beyond the curiosity of its unusual four-gaited step. A short length of pine tacked on the half-door of the stall bore the horse’s name in brass letters, Dominus.

Colin looked about. The stalls and tack seemed unfamiliar. He took a deep breath and smelled sweet feed and hay mixed with the sharper scents of leather and manure.  

“What the hell?”

A horse whinnied somewhere across the corral and Dominus stirred.

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Latest News

Literally Stories – Week 50

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A year is a long time.  Well a good three hundred and sixty-four days.  If you don’t believe me multiply the seven days we have in a week with the fifty-two weeks in the year. Anyhow, I mention the year as that is the time that has passed since our first ‘Post’ was published.  I wonder if Jenny Morton Potts realises that she is now part of our history?

We have had a ball.  It hasn’t always been easy.  To be truthful the submission numbers have at times been a bit of a disappointment and sometimes a struggle.  We have always kept true to our initial ideals.  We have only published what we thought was either interesting, unique or edgy. If we got all three of those, we were delighted.  The writing always had to reach the standard that we insisted on.

So to all who we have published, to all the friends that we have made and to everyone who has submitted, we can’t thank you enough!!!  It has been a pure privilege.  We hope that you have enjoyed this past year and being a part of the site.

Now to The Anthology!

We are delighted to be associated with this. This book is a  representation of the versatility of the stories from the site.

I think all of us who have worked on this must thank Diane especially.  She has worked like a wee Trojan Beaver Bee.  Her knowledge and input has been invaluable. She has grafted away for days on this and as I say, we must all thank her for her patience, skill and professionalism.

We have posted a page on the dynamics of the charity and would like to thank ‘The Book Bus’ for it’s acceptance of our proceeds.  Believe it or not, it is sometimes difficult to give money away!!  We wish them every success and hope we raise some awareness and funds for them.  Please help with a few purchases. The links and information regarding how to buy a copy is at the end of this post.

Now onto our stories.  Myself and Diane have put ourselves out there again. Fred Foote and Des Kelly have contributed.  Please check out their stories this week and their back catalogue as they are two very versatile and skilled writers.  We have a newbie to the site. Karl McDermott is a master of the short sentence.  His witty story is worth a look and we are sure that he will also have a back catalogue soon.

I hope that on the 17th you all join me and my fellow editors and take a moment to pour out a huge drink of your choosing, look to the sky and toast the site that is Literally Stories.  We will then look to the heavens and toast each and every one of you!!!  Our respective Ambulance Services are on standby.

THE ANTHOLOGY: OPPORTUNITY TO PURCHASE:

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So, yes it’s been hard work and time-consuming because we wanted it to be as good as we could make it.  Out of respect for our wonderful authors and to ensure that anyone who buys this will feel that they have bought a well presented collection of short fiction.  We hope that you approve.  For those of you who have pre-ordered — thank you and for anyone else this will be available for purchase from all Amazon marketplaces on our Anniversary 15th November.   Get it for your Kindle, your phone, your computer, your cat — oh your cat doesn’t have an iPhone — No problem.  In response to several requests we decided to take the extra step and publish the book in Paperback and so you can also have a copy to hold in your hand.  As with the e-book the proceeds from sales go directly to The Book Bus.  So, if you want a happy cat order your copy either from Amazon or directly from Createspace it’s your choice .  We do hope you like it.

Huge thanks are due to Angela at studioanjou for making us a beautiful all round genuine cover.

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A final note — the book is also enrolled in the matchbook programme on Amazon so if you buy both you get a “deal” one for reading and one to brighten up your coffee table!!

What’s not to like?

All Stories, General Fiction

Goodbye Blues by Frederick K Foote – Adult Content.

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Got the news straight from the horse’s ass. No fucking around at all. Dr. pull-no-punches, straight arrow motherfucker.

“The cancer done got you, boy. Got you good from asshole to elbows. Not much we can do, but wave to you as you go.”

“How about, chemo, radiation, experimental—“

“How about six to eight weeks to go? How about that?”

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All Stories, General Fiction, Historical

A Charming Couple by Des Kelly

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London 1929, a society sticking to the rigid values of the past, but only on the surface.

Such charm he had, Leonard. Such charm, elegance too. Poise, like a woman. He’d observe out of the corner of his eyes; feline, almost feminine. Everyone liked Leonard, even when the opinions expressed could be cutting. Acute observation.

People believed him blessed, and sought out his company at parties. He was rarely alone. Despite advances from both men and women, Adele was the only woman Leonard took home, but they weren’t lovers.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Before We Started Worrying by Martyn Clayton

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This was before we all started worrying about skin cancer. If you got burnt early doors the rest of the holiday you’d slowly turn brown. It was a holiday rite of passage, something to anticipate and dread.

There’d been talk of a bloom of jellyfish what with the warmer waters. Colin was standing in the sea up to his knees poking at them with the sharp end of his metal spade. It’s easy to say with hindsight that there was something vindictive about the boy. You read people backwards, fill in the gaps, squeeze the facts to fit what the present throws up. I can’t help recalling what I saw in the boy, seeing him with a magnifying glass burning ants in the sunshine. He’d capture crane flies in a jam jar, seal the lid and watch them flap frantically against the glass before collapsing still and exhausted. Only then would he lift the lid and slowly pull off their wings and legs before rolling the body into a ball between his thumb and forefinger. Jim says that lots of kids did that sort of thing but you still wonder.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Historical

A Special Sort of Day by Diane M Dickson

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Tommy let his head rest back against the sand.  It was hard, cold and wet.  He knew that in the dunes further up it was softer but he couldn’t be bothered with the climb for the moment. The others seemed to have gone on without him, never mind, he could catch them later.  He’d take a couple of minutes to rest here, nobody would mind surely and then he’d get back on the job.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Revelations by Frederick K. Foote

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[The contentious and jealous Goddesses and Gods have not perished or retreated to on high or sunk into the depths. I see them hidden in the faces and places I call home.]

Don’t shake dat thing like dat. You give an old man a heart attack. You make a good man go bad. You widen a brother’s eyes, open his nose, scramble his brains and put steel in his dick. You just keep that jelly rolling. Yes, you do. May the Goddess have mercy and the Gods save my sorry soul.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Storyteller by Louis Hunter

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Atop a hill in the moors sits an old man, wrapped in his beloved waterproof. It’s red with black buttons, and only some of them are missing. He sits on a carefully laid blanket, an empty space beside him, and sips from his Thermos. His gaze never shifts from the sister hill opposite him. In the drizzle and the fog, he is waiting for the ghost.

The air is cold and the sky is free to bloom with the tiny flourishes of long forgotten light. Next to the old man is another flask, untouched. He pats the blanket, gives it a tender little rub, and says:

‘She’ll be here soon, just you wait.’

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