Tag: short story

All Stories, Historical

¡WE LIVED! by Adam West

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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.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Elsa by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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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.

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All Stories, Horror

The Whereabouts of Mrs Trisha by W D Frank – Adult Content

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I withhold tears as I peer into the furious blue eyes of my runaway lover. His rugged, masculine body is chained to the behemothian memorial stone of a literary legend, yet his murderous vows continue to escape effortlessly. I murmur wryly as I brush my fingers across his exposed nipples and entertain an intense bombardment of blissful necrophilia fantasies.

“What a waste all of this is… I am breaking off another physical relationship and degrading a historical artifact simultaneously. Where did we go wrong, Ed? Why are you acting like such a monumental tosser!?”

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All Stories, General Fiction

True by Des Kelly

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I wrote poetry for an illiterate. She was pretty. We made bad love in a goodly way. She wanted to live in a doll’s house near nesting swans. Furiously describing anxiety, panic attacks. I saw her through the night, but days went badly. Trauma for effect; the actress at her art. Drinking water from zippy bottles, dropped out the window when used up. The landlord never understood.

“You creeps gotta get out.”

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Lissa’s Moment by Diane M Dickson

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“Lissa, wake up.”

The child opened her eyes, night goggles hid her father’s eyes, mirrored ovals  glowed on his face.  “Come on my love, get up”

“Baba, the siren didn’t sound, we are early.”

“Yes, but it’s time.”

“Michael, she’s frightened, don’t alarm her.”

“Hush woman.”  The tall figure turned to his wife, he reached out, the gesture softening the impact of his words.  “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

“Bring the clothes for Lissa, don’t forget the gloves and the headset.”

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller, Story of the Week

The Front Page by David Louden – Adult Content

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The nags were against me. Six races. Six bets. All blown out before the finishing line. I’m going to change bars, I told myself, this place is bad fucking luck for me. Superstition and gambling become more impassioned bed fellows the worse your luck is – and mine, mine hadn’t seen anything to show for it in months.

I sat at the bar in the Front Page cursing my luck, cursing the Racing Post, cursing the barman who had talked through the back page of form listings and most probably caused me to rush to a decision when time and a clear head was required. As the stranger pulled up a seat beside me I cursed him too. Wednesday afternoon, quite possibly the quietest time in a bar’s week and in a room full of empty, cold seats this prick parks up alongside me.

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All Stories, Romance

Greek Oranges by Diane M Dickson

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Michael peeled an orange for me.  Late summer or more properly early autumn and we had rented a villa in Greece, seven of us all from the same year at uni.  A research trip, nominally, but the sunshine and the pool and the late warmth were a bonus.  Paul didn’t come, he had been seeing practice all summer with a large animal vet near home which resulted in tickets for the races, tickets hard to come by and therefore precious that he didn’t want to waste.

Michael and James arrived later, driving a silly little hired car.  They brought with them laughter and cheap wine.

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All Stories, General Fiction

For The Best by Hugh Cron – Adult content

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Minutes of Meeting dated 05.11.13. 15.30pm

Those Present:

Jane McGuire – Unit Manager

Claire Green – Assistant Unit Manager

Andrew Reid – Nurse In Charge

Peter Welsh – Health Care Assistant

Mandy Fraser – Health Care Assistant

Jean Duncan – Clerical Assistant (Taking Minutes)

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Lost Dog by Robert V. Stapleton

Nik

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It was a grey April morning in downtown LA. I’d stopped outside my office to relight a stale cigarette butt. A woman was standing on the sidewalk just a few yards away, dressed in a red two-piece, the shade of an irate poinsettia. She was looking at me.

‘You Marlowe?’ she asked.

‘That’s me, lady.’

‘My name’s Marcia Reilly.’

I noticed she was wearing a wedding ring. ‘How can I help you, Mrs Reilly?’

‘Oh, Mr Marlowe,’ she sighed, ‘I’ve lost my little doggie.’

I drew on my cigarette and looked into her anxious face. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you,’ I told her. ‘I’m a Private Investigator, not a dog-catcher.’

‘But you don’t understand,’ she whined, creasing her face as if she were on the verge of tears. ‘This one’s twenty-two carat gold, with diamond eyes. It’s an antique bracelet-charm worth a thousand dollars.’

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All Stories, Humour

Crouching Feline, Hidden Lobster by Nik Eveleigh

Nik

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It begins as these things often do with a man talking to an imaginary cat. This fabulous and formidable feline is not only figmentary, but also sarcastic, cynical and prone to unprovoked bouts of profanity.

“So I’m supposed to say bollocks and the like for no reason?”

“Yes, that’s the sort of thing I expect. Now shut up and let me return to my musings.”

It begins as these things often do…

“You’ve mused that already.”

“Yes, thank you for that. Now once again shut up.”

“Just saying…”

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