Tag: writing

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, Science Fiction

Lissa’s Flight by Diane M Dickson

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DSC_0592Lissa felt old.  Her bones were tired and her soul weary. Mama and Baba had been long gone and she had spent countless years alone in the dark, cramped place where they had all existed.

The three brief occasions when she had gone “up top” were her dearest memories.  In the deep of the night, when the gangs roamed outside the draughty windows and the spotlights from the Enforcer’s wagons slid across the walls, scaring the cockroaches and scorpions, she would close her lids and take her thoughts to the sun-kissed meadow and the startling blue of the sky.

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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

Mercy by Diane M Dickson

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Phillipa had always known that she would be a nurse. The admission tests for University were easy because she was confident, no panic or night-time angst for Phillipa. She was born to be a nurse.

The University was attached to a teaching hospital with a world-renowned reputation. It would look great on her CV as she climbed the career ladder. She was a little regretful that they weren’t required to wear caps, crisp white aprons with scissor chain attached and black tights, but she made a supreme effort with the trouser uniform and always appeared smart, clean, fragrant and fresh.

At last, at the end of the Preceptorship, which of course she had zipped through in the shortest time possible, Phillipa felt that she was at last truly “Nursing” and was joyfully taking her turn at being “Nurse in Charge”.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Story of the Week

Season’s Greetings by Tobias Haglund

Tobias Haglund

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Simon sat at his desk. His boss Michael walked in.

”It’s approaching the holidays.”

”You mean Christmas?”

“No, we can’t say that.”

“Because we don’t want to offend other religions?”

“We don’t want to offend large groups of consumers, yes.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Lady in the Bauble by James McEwan.

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It’s bedtime now. Santa will only come after you have gone to sleep.

‘Oh Grandpa, tell us a story.’

Only if you both stay still, no jumping around. Come on now, settle under the blankets and listen. Let me tell you about Grandma’s Christmas bauble.

It was a dark wintry night and we were huddled together reaching towards the small fire, stretching our hands into the warmth. No one spoke because they were afraid, so afraid that if they slept they might not wake in the morning.

‘We’ll wake, won’t we Grandpa?’

Shussh, let me tell the story.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Mary, Joseph and the Baby by Diane Dickson

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“Me toes are freezing.”

“Come ‘ere, give ‘em ‘ere an’ I’ll put ‘em under me coat.”

“Oh nice, that’s nice.  Are you cold Joe?”

“Mmm a bit, just a bit, snuggle up and we’ll warm each other won’t we.”

“Lovely.  This place in’t bad is it.  I know it’s a bit wet in the kitchen and it dun’t have electric like the last squat but it’s not bad ‘ere.”

“No, an’ it feels safer I fink.”

“Yeah.  Eh, what’s that noise?”

“Dunno, I’ll go look you stay ‘ere, stop under the blanket and keep warm.”…

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