The cold, not a storm loaded with snow, but the cold in burrowing waves, came sweeping down the valley just north of the Yalu River. Vatcher Sexton McKee, sergeant of infantry, as cold as he’d ever been in his life, could not hold the pencil in his hand. He’d already broken the lead point three times, but only worried about handling the rifle, managing the trigger when called upon, his latest letter home to be finished at an hour less demanding.
Hunger growled in him, clamoring for attention. The old man went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard. There was one can of soup. Chicken noodle. A bowl and a spoon sat in the old man’s dish drain next to a small pot, the perfect size for heating soup. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves of a shady elm tree and filled the kitchen with dappled light.
Leila has been doing some detective work this time, she knew what she wanted but not where it was stored. Nothing daunted she has found it and here is what she said.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Garuka – Please come back by Ogunyemi, Ernest O”
A thoughtful review of this story from Leila and she hits on some very valid points. Nik Eveleigh is one of the editors – well you knew that – but he’s also a damn fine writer. This is what Leila said:
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Ella’s Ghost by Nik Eveleigh”
But First a Word From Judge Montague’s Great-to-the-4th Granddaughter
Whenever a woman is constantly besieged by unseen faces and disembodied voices, it is for the best that she believes that the legions of non-violent hoo-doos and haints that only she experiences are real, and are not indicative of a mental illness (technical name for the affliction: scewious loosiest). Such is the case with Yours Truly. And although you may think that my thinking “it is for the best…” is misguided, I assure you that the hoo-doos and haints (whether they be actual or of my own creation) want only happiness for everyone.
Here son, Haggis Supper.
“Cheers.”
“I want a kebab.”
Well fuck off to the kebab shop, I’ve told you, we only do suppers.
“Some fucking shop this is.”
Do you want anything else?
“Give me a packet of Gypsy Creams.”
I’ve ran out.
“Fuck this I’m going for a Chinky!”
Well off you fuck!
Continue reading “Scenes From An Ayrshire Chip Shop by Hugh Cron – Adult Content”
First of all, many congratulations to Hugh and Gwen on their 30th Wedding Anniversary. Love to you both and I hope the celebrations went well.
Continue reading “Congratulations, Fill in poster and a couple of reminders.”
Here we are at week 259. This is seemingly a momentous and historic week for Britain as we’re now out of The European Union.
I thought this would be a good topic for today’s posting. I could explore cause, economics, identities, the effect for future story writers and much more. But here’s the thing. I don’t give a cats cock!
I had a look to see if there was anything interesting that happened 259 years ago.
Continue reading “Week 259 – Hobbies, Crusty Wounds And Miss Anderson’s Wasted Wednesdays.”
Before we start one mention about horror writing – we don’t need horror fiction when we watch the Auschwitz Liberation Anniversary.
We send our deepest respects.
I just found out this week that my favourite Queen song (Spread Your Wings) was written by John Deacon. I’ve no problem with that, I simply hadn’t noticed and had assumed that the legend that was Freddie Mercury had written it. In a past life I used to write a lot of poetry and whilst doing some research, I found out that Freddie had recorded under the name Larry Lurex. His brilliant extravagance was evident very early on!!
Well hello there Chinas!! (A nod to Rikki Fulton. He always deserves a mention at this time of year.)
Here we are at the first Saturday posting of 2020 with Week 255.
It’s great to be back.
All the best to all of you for the coming year.
Both me and Diane behaved ourselves over the festivities but unfortunately we had to arrange some bail for Nik.
He had an unfortunate incident with a Twin-Tub and an Aardvark.
Continue reading “Week 255 – Religious Aardvarks, Artichokes And Toasting Toasts”
literally stories 