Tag: Sebastian Collier

A Tribute: Sebastian Collier

STORGY was saddened to learn the passing of Sebastian Collier, a writer, creator and artist that frequently sent us his short stories. In tribute, we are honoured to have his words immortalised on the website and below we are proud to share some of his work among our readership. We will also be dedicating our

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Iron Ghost by Sebastian Collier

Baron Von Luneberg, flight commander, iron cross recipient and celebrated war hero of the auspicious Luftwaffe finished loading the reconnaissance plane with looted nazi gold bullion. The war still raged towards Berlin, allied occupying forces were now pushing with impunity toward the command centres of the failed Third Reich. Luneberg, a descendent of  Germanic aristocracy

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Flash Fiction Competition 2019 – Finalists & Winners

FLASH FICTION COMPETITION 2019 Thank you to everyone who entered the competition and made the judging process such an incredibly inspiring and rewarding experience. We are immensely grateful to all of you for submitting and continuing to support STORGY and all the authors we publish. Without further delay….we are proud to reveal the selected finalists

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FICTION: Superhero Wasteland by Sebastian Collier

The Heights, a decayed pastel decorated modern lined apartment building belching ice cream vomit against the sun drenched blue sky, while milk candy floss clouds float daubs of paint above a row of stack chimneys. This quirky novelty can be found encapsulated on street vendor racks sold daily as tourist postcards exhibiting Art Deco history.

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FICTION: Memories We’ve Been Sharing by Sebastian Collier

Paulson flopped a leg lazily over the side of the bed, his large big toe swirling around on the carpet. His female companion had drifted contentedly to sleep, the sex had been exciting, both of them trying too hard. Paulson could hear the sea washing foam against the sand, the heat of the sun against

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FICTION: A Paris Vampire by Sebastian Collier

Chandelier poets sip crystal absinthe lounging within the walnut panelled walls of the cafe Jardines des Tuileries nestled within the 17th century mansions of Le Marais. Tinkling glasses, heavy feet of panting waiters mixed with the refined voices of bourgeois decadence amalgamated into a glossary of sound deciphered by the ear drums of a wolf.

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