They had teased about it often, but Sophia chickened out. Alone, I stand on a dirt road that hasn’t seen traffic for miles. I curse myself for not sticking around long enough to learn how to drive.
Tag: short stories
Week 168 – Prompts, Tangents And Afterlife Black Pudding.
Here we are at week 168. How time flies!
I’ve been asked millions of times how we decide on stories. It followed a billion questions about me literally exaggerating.
It all comes down to us discussing and being as fair and open minded as we can. We focus and are professional to a fault.
But sometimes our thoughts go off on tangents and my fellow editors end up giving me an idea that becomes something else.
With that in mind, which is me really explaining to Nik and Diane why they have read some of this before, I can tell you that both of them and Easter gave me the idea for this post.
Continue reading “Week 168 – Prompts, Tangents And Afterlife Black Pudding.”
The Leaving by L’Erin Ogle
Carly’s hair is falling out. She leaves gold strands everywhere, Gretel’s nightmare version of bread crumbs. We don’t talk about it.
Love Triage by Jeff Blechle
The ridiculous battle, hopelessly lopsided in the enemy’s favor, sent deserters scattering into the flaming woods, shot hopeful messengers down in their tracks, and, perhaps as an afterthought, stuffed the triage tent to the flaps with wounded soldiers. The overblown histrionics, the saucy horse that trotted into the tent strapped with dynamite, might have struck a jaded audience as faintly humorous.
Deadly Robberies by Tom Sheehan
Somewhere along the line it all got out of hand. Somebody was robbing graves at Riverside Cemetery, sitting just above the Merrimack River on a flat hilltop. Stealing coins, too, strange as it seems. That’s the kind of thing can jerk a town right off its feet, even if the spread of the cemetery was closing fast on its capacity and a new site required.
Week 167 – Large Dongs, Wee Allegations And Big Black Choppers.
Here we go again folks, Week 167 is thrust upon us.
‘Thrust’ was my inspiration.
Over the last fortnight there has been a common theme between Scotland and America. (This is grasping at straws and not the straws that choke whales, these ones are anorexic and used as sex toys for thread worms straws.)
Weird that! I’ve mentioned thread worms in my last two posts. There is no attraction, honestly, it’s just went that way.
Continue reading “Week 167 – Large Dongs, Wee Allegations And Big Black Choppers.”
The Talk by Frederick K Foote
Eight a.m. in San Juan, California and it’s already eighty-two degrees on this June morning. I’m in running shorts and a tee-shirt as I step out my front door to pick up the paper.
The black and white patrol car prowls my street like a predator looking for its next meal. The mechanical beast creeps toward my house, signals a right turn, pulls into my driveway.
The Woman Who Married The Man Who Could Throw His Voice by David Henson
I met a man named Frank today. He knows how to throw his voice. He said he learned it from his dad. Fun!
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Felis Catus Bionicus by River Rivers
Well, I’ll tell it to you straight, my life has gone to poop. Here’s how I ruined it:
Three Things by L’Erin Ogle
“Three things?” he said.
“Three things,” Lexie said. She was lying on her stomach, ankles crossed and held in the air, typing on her Mac. He had a Dell himself. But Lexie and her mother were Apple through and through. His ex-wife would buy a toilet seat if the Apple logo was on it.
literally stories 