Tag: short stories

All Stories, Writing

Week 196 – A Lady-Part, A Nipple End And A Happy Anniversary!!

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Before I start writing nonsense and swearing and being nasty and things, I would like to let you all know that our lovely Diane is celebrating her 50th Wedding Anniversary this weekend.

I find it a bit strange to think that one of my best friends is a net friend and they were getting married when I was celebrating my first birthday. This medium has its plus points.

To Mr and Mrs Dickson and all their family, I hope that they have a wonderful time this weekend.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Sniper by Frederick K Foote

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Congratulations Mr Foote on your 50th story published by Literally Stories.

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The New Springfield 7.62×51mm sniper, SO, with Inversion Camera Scope has perfect balance, elegantly carved walnut stocks, precision parts, outstanding reliability, and incredible accuracy. It fits hands, shoulder, face, and eyes like an extension of the body. It’s an exceptionally fine tool for killing people at long range.

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All Stories, Horror

The Impostor by Greg Fiddament

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You’ll surely think me mad at the story I’m about to tell. But believe me friends, this is no story.

It began with them getting Rachel. I don’t know how they did it – or who or what they are – but they did. She’s gone now, to god only knows where. My beloved, sweet, innocent Rachel. The love of my life. Stolen, taken from me, and replaced.

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Threelancers by John McLaughlin

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I wake up sprawled across the crash couch.

The taste of AmphaTab’s sticky on my tongue and last night’s detritus strewn along the cushion–liquor stains, hashish crystals, something that smells like lavender.

And a splitting headache. That damned noise again.

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All Stories, Science Fiction, Short Fiction

This God is Going to Happen by Leila Allison

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Once per year, Vicar meets her child at Altar. The event is a scheduled appointment, and means as much to both participants as an annual dental cleaning had meant to a First Form human being. For whatever reason, Awesome insists on yearly Vicar-class “mother-daughter” contact, which will terminate the year the color of the child’s skin changes from topaz to jet, thus signifying spiritual maturity.  At that point onward, they will neither see nor think about each other again. Vicars are happily solitary beings, in keeping with Awesome’s self-image.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Corpse Flower by A. Elizabeth Herting

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The Corpse Flower clutched its hidden treasure tightly, leaves interlocking in a steely grip. The flower would bloom in its own time. It would not be rushed or stopped in this biological imperative, any and all obstacles would be overcome. The evolution of hundreds of thousands of years had brought it this far, there would be no turning back.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

Dark Return by Tom Sheehan

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Wonder had him in its grip and worked him over, tossing him into past years as clean as a pistol shot. More than half a century flipped through his movie mind, stopping whenever he wanted, at whatever spot and breaking loose the sounds, the smells, the fingers touching, the skin knowing again, rocking him with total recall. He saw again the older woman who paraded nude behind a window, who finally beckoned when he was on the way to school one day, calling him on to manhood, and to silence and war, and to the eternal draw.

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All Stories, Fantasy, Horror, Short Fiction

Apartmeet by Kilmeny MacMichael

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The bride brought only a small bundle from home. Wrapped in a deep blue silk, she carried medicines and a small bone whistle. The bride was from a family of witches fallen from grace in a time of altered belief. Her home was an island dripping warm green forest into a wide magic river.

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All Stories, General Fiction

West 86th Street Time Machine by Patrick M. Butler

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Two days ago there were still those who went about saying that Peter was a false Tsar, perhaps the Anti-Christ himself.  But then, just as the hour of three was being struck, two long, thin clouds joined in the form of a cross above our village.  It was a Friday according to the new reckoning.  Marina, the serf girl, was the first to see it.  She fell to her knees and crossed herself, then ran to tell the priest, my father.  If he was drunk, as usual, he was nevertheless quick to realize how he could use this “sign”.  Were the rumblings of those who opposed the Tsar to go unchecked, the soldiers would soon be set upon our village to leave behind the smoldering remains of peasant huts and bodies swaying from scaffolds.  So I was ordered to toll the bell which summons the peasants to the village square where my father put them on their knees in witness to this miracle.  Such a voice he had!

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All Stories, Latest News, Writing

Week 192 – Nik’s Fear, Bikini And His Protruding Jut.

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Here we are at Week 192.

We have decided to try something new starting next week. There’s a chance for you to tick off a social / literal must from all of your bucket lists and have even more involvement on the site.
Continue reading “Week 192 – Nik’s Fear, Bikini And His Protruding Jut.” →