”Hello, sir.”
”Yea?”
”Uhm. I’m here to see Pam.”
“My daughter?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You the kid?”
“Uhm…”
“I mean the kid she’s been sneaking off with. The … No, let me think. The Williams boy, right?”
Tag: story of the week
The Boat Song by Tobias Haglund
“Dad! Dad! Are we there yet? Are we?”
“No.”
“But we’ve been driving for-EVER!”
“Quiet back there!”
Frida held her breath. Jack looked up in the rear-view mirror. “What are you doing?” He turned to Hanna. “What is she doing?”
Hanna turned around. “Are you holding your breath to be quiet?” Frida nodded her head enthusiastically. Hanna held out her hand and gave Frida a high-five. “I’m also going to hold my breath. We can’t disturb Jack!”
“Alright, ladies. I get it. Should I turn on the radio? Will some music make you happy, honey?”
…at an age of seventy-five. We celebrate his memory with a song Robert Broberg crafted in 1967. Here it is. The classic; ‘The Boat Song’.
One of the sailboats said, to the other that, you are lovely,
we should be boarding in hand, courting far from land,
sailing off unmanned, like only sailboats can,
Bada-bam-bam-bam-bam, bada-bam-bam-bam-bam…
Literally Stories Week 27
Water featured prominently on Literally Stories this week with three of the five writers navigating a course over, across, and even through it, in yet another flange of diverse stories and storytelling styles.
Cold, hard iron blade of the sea by Shane Bolitho
For more than a month that horizontal plane, the cold, hard iron blade of the sea, has scythed around this lonely spite-filled ship, the Meeuwtje, the Seagull. Our only constant: that unwavering edge. If only we would come to it and tumble off into the void.
I am consumed with the vilest thoughts; acidic loathing, a derision that stoops my shoulders. This sinful, wind-blown bastard-mongrel pack with whom I share this stinking pile of creaking timber, rope and sailcloth!
Continue reading “Cold, hard iron blade of the sea by Shane Bolitho”
A Night In Vienna by Tobias Haglund
Overlooking the Staatsoper, the Rathaus, the Parlament and the Burgtheater Johann ticked his finger up and down. The lighting made a group of freshmen look as if they flickered underneath an ethereal golden waterfall. They danced and laughed on the market place, took pictures and were allowed to be free. A girl with blond hair in a white dress caught Johann’s attention. The others talked while she almost tiptoed away. He lowered his finger but stopped it from rising again. Her smile. Mesmerising. He stamped his feet on the wooden floor, watched her move around a street lamp. Graceful and delicate. She’s smiling still. And she came around to the other side, his side, the dress and the hair moved like a C Major played by a violin. Back to C, but from where? Not some place dangerous, some place of comfort and trust. Of the golden waterfall and the blend between baroque and renaissance architecture. Was she even real? Could she disappear at any moment if he just closed his eyes? He raised his finger and closed his eyes. She was gone. And so was the group of students.
A New Perspective or That Time I Was Allergic to Wussing Out by Alex Rezdan
There’s nothing like almost killing yourself to put things into perspective. The slow, dull lull of life seeping out of your body one drop at a time, and you, rushing to say all you need to say before it’s all over. And by you, I mean me, of course.
Continue reading “A New Perspective or That Time I Was Allergic to Wussing Out by Alex Rezdan”
Ultra-Belfast by Dave Louden – Adult Content
I had been in hell a week by this point. It looked a lot like Belfast. I knew it was hell because I couldn’t find any of my favourite bars and it was the 12th of July every day. The streets were awash with track-suited skinheads and chippie wrappers, and smelt of dark orange piss. I died the same age as Bukowski, seventy-three years-old. He had wanted to go at eighty making it with an eighteen year-old, I was just happy making it beyond fifty. It was a rare landmark for the men in my family.
Continue reading “Ultra-Belfast by Dave Louden – Adult Content”
Saunders House by Tobias Haglund
I remember sneaking into the old Saunders house with my older sister. The trees twisted into positions which during the night cast shadows, which still haunt me in my dreams. It was silly, but great fun. We were discoverers of occult. Patrons of good, as Father Hope called us. I miss him. Father Geary is stern and never lets anything go. He forced Jane to grow up too fast. Twenty years old and already mother of two and married to Hank. Hank ‘wooden-face’ Edison.
I still visit the Saunders house. I won’t get in trouble for going into the yard any more, but I still sneak, pretend that the shadows are moving in the moonlight. When Will and Joey are older we can play there. Hopefully I won’t be too old.
Ella’s Ghost by Nik Eveleigh
“Please. Can you stay just a little longer?”
Ella holds my palm to her cheek and smiles. Her radiance pushes through the withered dilution of her past glory and warms me as her skin no longer can.
“I’m lost without you.”
“Hush.” She lays light against me.
“I’m sorry. You should have had so much more. So much more than I…”
Ella raises her head and grips my hand in hers. “You were always enough for me Charlie. Always. Don’t ever think that.” She is crying now. “Promise me.”
The Village by Tobias Haglund – Adult content
”You see this meadow, boy? It was a swamp before we moved here. One of the conditions for buying the mansion and the adjoining land was that I paid to have it fixed and also the beach. You enjoy the beach, right boy? The restoration of the pier as well. How do the villagers repay us? They let their dogs shit on the meadow. They shit on the meadow, boy. They want me to pick it up… Look out the window! There’s Andersson with his ugly daughter.” Erik stopped and rolled down the car window. “HEY! Andersson! Pick up after your shitty daughter’s shitty dog! Or I will empty my septic tank all over your ugly house. I’d do you that favour. The shit glaze would probably raise the property value.”
Continue reading “The Village by Tobias Haglund – Adult content”
literally stories 