Tag: war

All Stories, General Fiction

The Day the End of the World Was at Hand by J Bradley Minnick [1]

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“I’ve signed you up for swimming lessons at the Y.M.C.A. Lessons start Monday. That’s tomorrow,” Mother said as I stood on pretty pink petals that lined the ground of our backyard jungle. A late spring snow had just left the rooftop of our home. The gutters were filled with brown, wet leaves. Father stood high atop a wooden ladder. Looking up, I saw his blue jeans and the dirty soles of his shoes. Mother stood under him, holding the bottom rungs. She wore a small bee-hive hairdo, a plaid shirt, and black slacks. Every so often a clump of leaves exploded in a burst behind me. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

Not For Sale by Guylaine Spencer

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An autumn evening, 1950

Along the Grand River, Ontario, Canada

Yes, sir, she’s a mighty fine mansion. And an unusual style for this neck of the woods. Looks a bit like a bank to me with that porch and pillars. The first owner built her back in 1845. She doesn’t get the attention she deserves these days. You can see that by the peeling paint and the boarded-up window. The brothers don’t live here full time now, but they do come down on occasion. Separately, always. That’s why they have the wife and me looking after the place as caretakers. We live in the house and keep an eye on things. The two brothers don’t speak to each other anymore. They send messages through me. They haven’t talked since the blowup they had over the repairs to the roof.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

The Spoils by Toni Juliette Leonetti

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Themes that some readers may find distressing – see tabs

***

July 7, 1917, Arras, France

It was no great shock to hear of corpses rising from their graves.

Not in this toppled world, where men turned moles. Where the fresh aged fastest, stooped and wizened in their dark holes, dreading the sun. Where a man’s next breath might kill him before he smelled hay in it. Just that, no longer the searing pineapple and peppered bleach of chlorine. Phosgene suggested merely a whiff of musty hay before the man’s lungs drowned him. Drowned, with no water in sight.

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All Stories, General Fiction

 Mushawie off the Hill by Tom Sheehan

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Jimmy Mac, on the second-floor porch of his Smith Road house and the early sun barely creasing the edge of Baker Hill, looked over the top of the box scores, the Sox winning their fifth in a row, and saw, for the first time in he’d later guess to be about eight years, Mushawie just coming to the bottom of the Cinder Path. Coming off Baker Hill. He couldn’t remember Mushawie being off the hill. My God! Jimmy, said to himself. Nobody saw Mushawie unless he wanted them to see him, him socked away back in on the Delmere property the way he’d been since VJ Day in ’45.


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Literally Reruns, Short Fiction, sunday whatever

Literally Reruns – A Boy Once Known by Tom Sheehan 

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Foreword

In honor of Remembrance Day (Veteran’s Day in America), and to honor those who served, currently serve and to those who gave all, we present a reworking of a story by Tom Sheehan first published in November 2017. Tom served in Korea and knows as much about the suffering of war, and its after-effects, as much as anyone.

Since it is an altered version, we will forgo the usual link and present the work right here and now.

All the best to the veterans and those who appreciate their sacrifices.

Diane, Hugh, Leila–Eds. Literally Stories

******

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General Fiction, Short Fiction

We Two Soldiers by Mark Schafron

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I’d never been blown up before.

We were patrolling in the middle of nowhere during the late afternoon of another 110 degree day, with nobody around except a goatherd in the distance, tending a few scrawny goats. The IED must have been under a pressure plate in the road.

A slow-motion movie sort of thing is how I’d heard survivors describe explosions. Not me. One minute, I was in the Humvee’s right rear seat behind the vehicle commander, Staff Sergeant Bennett, getting my kidneys pureed on the rough road. Then I heard a roar like the sound of a passing locomotive. A white light filled the cabin like some nuclear camera flash and I felt a searing wind on my face. Then I was somersaulting through the air with my synapses flashing, envisioning how hard I might land. Pretty hard, it turns out. The ground rushed towards me, and I heard a crunch as I landed face-first in the dirt. And then the lights went out.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Death on Rotation by Brandon Nadeau

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He took a swing at me. I braced for impact as it battered my jaw.

Big mistake, I thought, as I got low, latched on, picked him up. Buddy laughed; guy was having fun with me. Fine. I spun around and took him down. 

He snatched my beard, mashed his face into mine. I tore free, pinned his arms, prepared to strike. His feral eyes widened; he knew his fate. 

I put my lips on his bare belly and blew. My son squealed and flailed, then stiffened and vibrated. Electrocuted by elation.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

All History in a Day by Ismael Hussein

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What do bombs do?

They shatter.

How does the sky feel?

Broken.

Where do the bullets go?

Everywhere.

What do the children say?

Help.

What do the mother’s scream?

Stop.

What does the world say?

Nothing.

What does God say?

We don’t know, yet.

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All Stories, Fantasy

The Battle Below by Bridget Goldschmidt.

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In the third year of the Sectarian War, Colonel Childress’ party arrived early to get the best possible position on the rocky outcropping above the weed-choked field. The battle was due to begin at 10 o’clock sharp, according to the colonel’s sources; although retired, he still retained his military contacts. He checked his large silver fob watch.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Donn and the Mourning Moon by Brandon Nadeau

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The Forest. 1995-Nov-07. Prince George, BC. 1805 hours.

Mom taught me the stories of our people, from the moon goddess, whose light enchanted the night, to the banshee, whose scream was an omen of death. She practiced the paganism and witchcraft she’d learned from Nana, who’d long since gone to be with Donn—Lord of the Dead.

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