Tag: Short Fiction

Fantasy, Humour, Short Fiction

Anita Knows by Leila Allison

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Act One: What Goes Up Eventually Leaves a Crater

Nowadays, the amazing comeback of the boy band, the billigits, is all the rage in Saragun Springs. The cycle of fame travels extremely fast in fantasy realms. For six weeks the boys (natives of the Springs) were flying high, superstars in the Springs’ sister realm called Other Earth; launched by the spectacular success of their debut album, meet the billigits (billigits do not use capital letters). Yet six weeks later, the band imploded, and the billigits were just another pockmark in the town of hasbeenville.

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All Stories, Editor Picks, General Fiction, Short Fiction

520: Don’t Touch that Dial, More Words From the TV Generation

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In Stephen King’s On Writing he mentions that he is among the last generation of writers who learned to read and write before television became a staple of American life (as I’m sure was the same in other developed nations as well).

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All Stories, General Fiction

Blood Lovers by Gerald Coleman

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At the haggard edges of New York City, the Fourth Avenue Local of the RR Line started or ended, depending upon your intentions, at Ninety-Fifth Street on the far ass-end of Brooklyn, where the city skyline was but an aspiration. You could barely see the Statue of Liberty if you were on a rooftop and knew where to look.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Dimps by Geraint Jonathan

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She gave me the grandest name. Bardonneche. Lovely isn’t it. Didn’t suit me at all. Or not so’s you could see. Would suit me even less now, pruned up bag of bones that I am. But I wasn’t pretty even then. Mind you, neither was she. Pretty we were not.

She was Cleanthes, I was Bardonneche. We became a team.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Tip Run by Alex Kellet

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I knew I shouldn’t have come to the tip on a Sunday, the queues are always massive. I should have come in the week, but I couldn’t be arsed. Yet another mistake I’ve made. Petrol is nearly empty as well, that’s another job I’ll have to do. Never fucking ends, does it?

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Silence by Rehanul Hoque

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The dimness of the room was perfect for them both. That was how she loved it; the gentle light covered up the years that had become ingrained in her skin and the weariness in her eyes. He never asked for more light. Every Tuesday, he would drop by, say nothing, and leave a wad of money on the dresser.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Mannish by Leila Allison

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I never learned how to ride a bicycle. My little sister did; during her Jesus phase Tess earned a rusty third-hander from the Presbyterians because she’d memorized fifty Bible verses. It was the sort of bike you could leave out and not care if it got stolen. Forever on foot, I excelled at heartstopping bolts across busy streets, hopping fences and creating shortcuts; I also developed a mailman’s awareness of Dogs.

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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Loredano Carfano

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As anyone who reads the site knows, we publish a great deal of stuff by one or two-off writers. That is not a problem, but it sometimes results in excellent stories getting lost because the name of the author was only around for a short time.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 519 – Cleaning Naked Appendages, ‘Tell ‘Um About The Honey Mummy And Henry Maghee Was That Mummy.

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Here we are posting number 519

It’s been a weird week.

I’ve been limping more than normal and just noticed I have a huge bruise on my knee – Fuck knows how it got there. A note to my self (Is that one word??) I need to take more showers!!!!

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