Tag: STORGY Magazine

Concussion Party by Nick Story

The banner between the trees read: “Welcome Home, Logan!” On the table below the banner there was a spread of yellow cake, hamburger buns, chips, ketchup and mustard, a plate of grilled meats, and fizzy red punch in a plastic bowl. In sweaters and jeans, Logan, Becky, and Sharise assembled their meals. Leaves were falling

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Reunion by Liz Milne

My daughter will be joining me soon, and while part of me loves that idea, it fills me with sadness too. It will mean the end of an era, the final disintegration of our family which was small enough to start with. I sit with my husband and my daughter sometimes. I sit with them

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A Narrow Gate by Sam Gridley

“We shall not,” Reverend Morrison whacked the pulpit, “stroll at our ease into the Kingdom of Heaven. For the Lord tells us, ‘Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life.’” In the front pew Michelle suppressed a shiver, conscious of being observed from the rows behind. To her right her

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After Care by Helen Beer

“Try to relax,” the doctor said, her voice pragmatic and assured, issuing the impossible command. “You’re doing fine, Lenora,” the nurse added, her voice soothing and empathetic, issuing the white lie. The strangers who comforted Lenora were completely anonymous; their names had not been revealed to her for their own protection, even though April knew

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Uncanny by Amanda Huggins

The new waitress says he reminds her of someone. She presses a finger to her lips, frowning slightly as she looks him up and down, then shakes her head. ‘I can’t think who it is. The image is blurred, a little fuzzy around the edges. If I could sharpen you up, pull you into focus,

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Asunder by Ellen Akerman

This story must be told, that of a young girl, not taken but ripped from her mother’s arms. A mother following instinct to protect her daughter, to find safety, a place without fear of death. This mother, witness to murder, inside a spring day while the birds sang of new hungry babies, opening wide beaks

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An instrument displayed at Whitechapel station by Niall Keegan

There is an old piano with chipped keys and fine lines on display inside Whitechapel station. There is an official bucket tethered with a silver chain and a not-unworthy cause interleaved between two sheets of plastic. For some, a chance to showcase. Performances erupt intermittently, often during the calmer moments between rush hours. Songs are

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A Cynical View of Dystopian America by Benjamin McPherson Ficklin

A post by the account PDX alerts: Report of a nude female masturbating on the Cesar Chavez Blvd I-5 overpass, incident causing slowed traffic in Northbound lanes. Eight minutes later, next post in the same thread: Police responding to multiple calls. Eleven minutes later, next post: Police in foot chase with suspect. Thirty-seven minutes later,

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NASH MAN by Francis Duffy

Pity on passing faces, like I’m dumb for doing what smart guys avoid. Females at first smile on seeing a spiffy young male standing tall alongside the ramp up to a west-bound highway. Short hair parted left and combed flat with white sidewalls. Pale Oxford shirt tucked in, belted dark chinos, thin black necktie, shined

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The Interview by Clare Reddaway

Hello. You must be…? Yes, guilty, I’m Mrs McCready. But you can call me Eleanor. Did you find the house easily? Oh, you saw the gates? Yes, they are rather large. It might look like overkill but I live here alone and I like to feel safe. Come on through! I thought we’d do the

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