Tag: short story

All Stories, General Fiction, Humour

The Greatest Cock that Ever Lived by David Louden

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

I was fifteen, it was April and the summer had started early. My mother gave me ten pounds to run to the parade of shops at the bottom of the Oldpark Road to buy two steaks and some mince to fry into burgers for the dog’s dinner. Dragging myself away from the television I threw on my trainers, laced up, pocketed the banknote and walked down to the bottom of The Bone. I passed many people, they all knew me. I said hello to them all before suddenly someone was calling my name from outside the Suicide Inn.

Continue reading “The Greatest Cock that Ever Lived by David Louden” →

All Stories, General Fiction

False by Des Kelly

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

I had an artist friend, described creativity as a need to get back to the point of origin; tie up loose ends. He lived with a woman hooked on heroin. She despised me without knowing who I was, described me as the type of man she detested. In slack moments she’d smile.

“I see you now. You can’t hide.”

Continue reading “False by Des Kelly” →

All Stories, Science Fiction

The Feast of Margaret by Adam West

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

May this year was freezing. No snow just cold nights. Raw days. I went to the allotments every morning to check on the hens. Feed them. I don’t go any more. They’re all dead. A virus Harry sez.

When I used to walk down to the allotment along the narrow paths The Gardeners keep free of weeds the frost made that sound under my feet only walking on frost makes. Crunchy-crackly Jen calls it, like she would know.

Continue reading “The Feast of Margaret by Adam West” →

All Stories, Humour, Story of the Week

Pines Everywhere by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

DSC_0592

“Pines everywhere. And we have been driving in this stinking Volvo for three hours without a break.”

“A much needed coffee break, indeed!”

Joe tapped the car window a few times. A clear blue lake could be spotted behind the pines, but Joe turned his head and just missed it. He turned on the radio.

“Listen. What the hell is he talking about? Is he talking Elvish?”

“No I don’t think it is Elvis, it sounds Swedish to me.”

Ulriksberg 4 km.

“Drive towards Owhlricksburgh. It must be Norway.”

Continue reading “Pines Everywhere by Tobias Haglund” →

Latest News

Literally Stories Week 9

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

Another week has passed and I still haven’t grown younger. Santa’s not paying his dividends. I guess I’ll live. Speaking of living (cheapest segway possible or maybe it’s segue – the one with the wheels): We Lived by our Adam West started the week. Once again we are engulfed with interest – yes it’s a fire and war reference –  into the historical fiction which Senõr West delivers so well.

Continue reading “Literally Stories Week 9” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Midas Brown by Nik Eveleigh

Nik

DSC_0592

Midas Brown stands at the door of his shack and spits into the rain. When the storm broke an hour ago removing the oppressive heat of the day Midas was a happy man. Now, on reflection, as he scratches his sunken belly and listens to the water drumming against the iron overhang, he would gladly take the early evening sauna over this big shitty noise.

He digs around the cracked remains of a lateral incisor, works a sliver of tobacco loose and spits again. He knows the storm outside will pass soon enough.

He is less sure about the storm within.

Continue reading “Midas Brown by Nik Eveleigh” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Bobby Aspergers by Todd Levin

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

They were running everywhere, the children. There was this confident little girl running around, Judith, the one who’s name we wish we’d have thought of before Jennifer was born. She ran around within that, wearing this little pink polka dot dress. It was the kind of thing that if Patricia were here she’d talk about how she wishes she’d have been able to give it to Jennifer for Christmas and talk about how it would have suited ‘ours more’. Patricia wasn’t here today, she couldn’t be. The agency was taking off and at least one of us had to be there to man the phones and those phones had been ringing lately. It was finally working. That dream we’d had was getting there and was breaking the wall that had stopped it for the last five years. But she’d have been jealous of that kid of all things.

Continue reading “Bobby Aspergers by Todd Levin” →

All Stories, General Fiction

Bubbles by Diane M Dickson

literallystories2014

DSC_0592

Sylvie looked down at the dishes.  In the slightly greasy water her fingers disappeared under the foam. The light sparkled and popped as tiny globes exploded and infinitesimal rainbows vanished in the blink of an eye.

She had always loved bubbles, the luxurious bath type ones that wrapped you in a quilt of scented foam. The ones children, and sometimes Sylvie herself, made blowing through a plastic ring, and the sort that floated out of wonderful bubble machines. Of all the things she wished she had, and there were many, a bubble machine came pretty high on the list.

Continue reading “Bubbles by Diane M Dickson” →

All Stories, Historical

¡WE LIVED! by Adam West

literallystories2014

DSC_0592
Spring 1938.

Lars said to Miranda, “Understand this…” and left the table.

A series of explosions shook the six storey building but did not deter Miranda’s study of him; his untidy egress.

Through the narrow living space towards the sash window, she watched him go. Observed him at the window and after a time wondered why he found what was on the other side of the glass – a post-siesta pre-bombardment tableau in the still spring air – more compelling than whatever it was she supposed he intended to spout next.

If indeed there was more.

Continue reading “¡WE LIVED! by Adam West” →

All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Elsa by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

DSC_0592

There’s a temperature – not too warm, not too cold, just right – where I am caught for hours. Thousands of tiny water drops form like islands in an ocean upon the inner wall of the shower stall. Streams run down, connecting the islands and growing bigger to eventually drop to the puddle at my feet. As the water hits my forehead, eyelids and cheeks a comfort settles, knowing no matter how long I stand here, the water won’t stop. Sooner or later all of the thousand islands will be connected and new ones will form. The streams reaching my feet will not stop streaming and the flow will keep wrinkling my hands. I lean left and the shower hits my shoulder creating a waterfall.

Continue reading “Elsa by Tobias Haglund” →