I met a man named Frank today. He knows how to throw his voice. He said he learned it from his dad. Fun!
Continue reading “The Woman Who Married The Man Who Could Throw His Voice by David Henson”
Tag: short stories
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.
Some Animals by Alexander Franks – Adult content
Underneath a billboard beside the highway, an imperious impression of a gorilla spun a banana-shaped sign which read “Free cable & HBO & air conditioning.” It was early spring and the air cool and crisp, but the gorilla had been at it for several hours—throwing the sign up in the air, swirling it around his limbs, passing it around his back—the man underneath undoubtedly hot from the body heat trapped in his fake polyester furs. Cars filled with people on their way to work would occasionally honk hello, and the gorilla man would wave and point at the sign. The cars would then slowly pass, the occupants smiling and nodding but not looking directly at him.
Continue reading “Some Animals by Alexander Franks – Adult content”
The Dreampurple Light by Leila Allison
Whatever happened to the power-chord?
To which my boyfriend lit a bowl
Was A Stairway to Heaven really the greatest song?
Think it over as you pass that on
Said he’d love me till the end of time;
Forever came to stay in 1989
Still, he was never all so great;
For me that bell had tolled in ‘88
Thirty years go by in the glaze of an eye;
Can it be it’s always the promising future that lies?
*******
When my sister Tess and I were girls we’d often visit our father’s grave in New Town Cemetery. Although he had died suddenly when I was two and Tess an infant (thus destined to be little more to us than a face in the family photo album and a grave in the cemetery), we’d make time for “Dear Father” because we had agreed that it was the sort of thing daughters should do. I would recite a psalm memorized from Granna Ivy’s Bible, and Tess would lay a hastily clapped-together bouquet of daisies, buttercups and bluebells on his headstone. I recall admonishing her for the frequent inclusion of dandelions to the arrangement, “Those are weeds, numbskull.” Tess would defend the addition of dandelions on the grounds that “Nobody grows daisies, buttercups or bluebells on purpose, either, bonehead.”
Week 164 – Lots Of Words, Lots Of Stories And All Tom Sheehan
We had a cracking conversation, well type, over the last week or so and it was regarding drying up. Now I am not talking about ladies of a certain age. But when I think on it, since they most likely put up with gentlemen of a certain age, no wonder sandpaper can form where you would least expect it. That was nice of me for the ladies, so here’s a balance. *Being semi-erect when you see her is not a compliment if you were fully erect before…
…Couples of a certain age…Discuss!!!
Continue reading “Week 164 – Lots Of Words, Lots Of Stories And All Tom Sheehan”
A Half Century Come and Gone by Tom Sheehan
I could picture what it would be like if we met again all these years later. It might go down like this: After 670 miles of a pretty cross country haul, I’d see the meeting-place pub we’d picked sitting brown and ugly like a hovel at the side of the road, a meeting place for the century, out there in some square, hard country setting. And I’d brace myself for comrades, the long stretch between get-togethers, wondering what the hard stuff would do to me this time. Undoubtedly it would leave tracks again.
I closed my eyes, wondering all over again. I hoped Balbo would be in there and Diaz. I hoped Archie’d be in there, red in the face, after his fifth visit, his third wife, his second hospital stay, counting his visits, keeping the tab at his elbow, paying it with no fanfare at all, sometimes embarrassed by his own quick acceptance of it, owing somebody, always owing somebody in this crazy life.
Continue reading “A Half Century Come and Gone by Tom Sheehan”
Dead People on Facebook by Roger Ley
“Seven o’clock, Martin, time to get up,” said Siri from the bedside table.
“Alarm off,” he said.
“Today is Estella’s birthday, would you like to send her a greeting?” asked the cheery voice.
“I’d love to send her a greeting but she died a week ago so it seems a little pointless.”
Supply And Demand by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content
“Just keep following this road Donna, it’ll be about another ten minutes.”
Claire stared at her. She could see worry, apprehension and fear. Her younger sister had the same look when she had first told her what she did.
Claire’s thoughts went back to where this had began.
Continue reading “Supply And Demand by Hugh Cron – Strong Adult Content”
Low Pressure Terracotta by Robert P. Kaye
The wind stopped blowing on Friday afternoon. Unexpected, since it had never happened before, the problem usually too much wind versus too little. The army of giant turbines stopped rotating in unison. An eerie view from Wayne’s perch in the control tower.
Continue reading “Low Pressure Terracotta by Robert P. Kaye”
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