Tag: writing

All Stories, Romance

Before Hitting The Ground by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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”Did you know Leonardo da Vinci was a farmer’s son?”

“No.”

“He was. Born out of wedlock by a mother who was a farmer.  You can imagine how it must have looked. Fifteen century Italy, born and raised by a single mother, yet he still managed to accomplish those many great things. It really is a great argument that every social class should be given a chance, right?”

“Right.”

“The next Leonardo da Vinci might be raised right now by a single mother.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Look. If you don’t want-”

“I want to. Let’s just talk for a while first.” Kevin sat down on the bed. “Would you? Would you please say something. Just… I wanna hear you talk. It soothes me.”

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In conversation with...

Tobias Haglund in conversation with Adam West

Tobias Haglund

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”Sit down, my good friend, sit down.” Adam gave Tobias a stout. “There you go. Something imperial to take your mind off of things.”

“Thank you, kind sir. My mind has been racing, that’s for sure.” Tobias took a big enough sip for it to be called a chug, but he did it in such a gentlemanlike way it remained a sip. “Mind if I share with you what burdens me?”

“I’m all… wait -” Adam chugged a stout and slumped down. “Ears.”

“I’m a Swede, as you know, and therefore when I write English, prone to make mistakes. Some are because it’s a second language and some are genuine mistakes. Let’s start with the latter. Take for instance the word mistake. In Swedish a miss is always spelled with two S. Even when writing mistakes-”

“I’m sensing a pun here…”

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All Stories, Fantasy

Sadistic Justice by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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In a damp cellar the mould mixed with the scent of urine coming from his rags. A drop of sweat still dangled at the tip of his black hair from an excruciatingly painful hour as the hatchway closed. He was strong, the strongest, but he had never endured that level of pain. Moss and mice were signs of hope, or at least hope of life in the dark.

Conspirator. Traitor. Your house shall burn and your name will be dragged in the mud.

And they dragged his face in mud. Along the wooden planks and the stone. From one side of the long wall to the next. Two hard punches to the back of his head threw him into the stone. He lost teeth. A man stamped him in the lumbar region, which was the reason he couldn’t stand up.

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Background
Latest News

Literally Stories – Week 21

literallystories2014

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We hope that you have all enjoyed this week’s mixed bag from Literally Stories as much as we have enjoyed presenting them to you.

There is always a buzz of excitement when we receive a new submission, this is tempered by nervousness and crossed fingers.  We absolutely love accepting your short fiction pieces, we are thrilled to send an acceptance email and the following notification of publication date.  All the stories, including our own are read by all the editors and to be approved they have to receive at least three strong YES votes.  Sometimes a story will be borderline and then there is great discussion amongst the editors and on occasion one of us will champion a piece successfully and bring about a change of mind and a piece will gain approval.  I mention this because we do want contributing authors to know that we always take your work very seriously and we do know how disappointing it is if we have to send that horrible “other” email.

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All Stories, Humour

Mr. Peta by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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“Mr. Peta. A broad’s waitin’ for ya.”

“The red dress with blonde hair? Yea? Did you offer her somethin’ to drink? I got a feeling she’s gonna need it.”

I acted surprised when I saw her. The news coverage pretty much summed up what the meeting would be about. Socialite inherited fortune after bloody breakfast accident.

“Hello Mr. Peta.”

“It’s Mr. Peter.”

“The secretary-”

“She can’t speak. What can I do you for?”

I sat down and shoved old newspapers with half-finished crossword puzzles to the side. I didn’t want her to know I couldn’t finish what I had started. I offered her a glass of bourbon smokier than a factory working ballet dancer.

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Background
Latest News

Literally Stories – Week 20

literallystories2014

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Week 20 ! that’s a milestone isn’t it. There’s another one also, no prizes but can any of our regular readers guess what it is?  Answers on a post card please (not really but there’s always the Your Thoughts page for those little titbits you want to share with us, we love to hear from you! But if you read on to the end I’ll reveal our other great milestone.

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All Stories, Historical

Icarus by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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”Another one, Mickey.” Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Yea I’m sure. Throw on another one. It needs to support the weight and account for winds, so throw on another one.”

“I’ll never get the speed high enough to take flight.”

“Sure you will. You’ve been practicing?”

“Yes. I’m fast. How are your motors coming along?”

“Don’t worry about them. You just keep focusing on staying on track at that velocity.”

Althea walked out from the cabin, kissed James on the cheek and placed a tray on the table. “How are you boys doing?”

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Gulls Cry by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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The gulls cry. The waves and the winds of mid-July rinse the sand as I lie on the beach stretching my fingers, reaching and touching white foam. It recoils just as my fingertips graze it. Back into the ocean. The gulls cry and the lighthouse flashes, calling home. The sky is empty yet filled with everything. The salt and the sand polish stones as smooth as my memory of the touch of her cheeks.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

The Village by Tobias Haglund – Adult content

Tobias Haglund

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”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.”

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