Tag: writing

Two Years, Four Months, and Eleven Days of Rules by Joanna Franklin Bell

When I was 19, I secretly fell in love with a boy. He was 17. I first learned his body as I watched him walk across the campus green when he didn’t know I was looking—his curly dark hair, his camo jacket with all the pockets, his baggy jeans. I learned his face second, when

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The Return Home by Tim Oke

To me, Julia, sitting in the armchair, gun held in her right hand, propped up by the armrest looked younger than she had in years. She stared at the couple, who sat on the opposite sofa; daylight squeezing through the closed blinds, casting a beam across their ashen faces. “What’s his name?” Julia asked breaking

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Post No Bills By David Mortimer

All my customers had the same old chat. It was uncanny. All these people, these hundreds of people who didn’t even know each other, and they all said the same little things to me every day. The most common by far was the one about bills. I’d give somebody their letters, and they’d tell me

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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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Consider This by Chuck Palahniuk

‘Consider This: Moments In My Writing Life After Which Everything Was Different‘ (which from this moment on will be referred to as Consider This) is not just a book it is an investment. Chuck Palahniuk has produced a fabulous book about writing craft, which as a fan of Palahniuk I’m thrilled with, but as a

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Day 29: All The Trimmings by Stephen Ground

On the 29th Day of Christmas Stephen Ground gave to me… The night they brought Billy home, Matt couldn’t sleep. Not unusual – Christmas at work was stressful, and he drank too much coffee – but when Martha woke to feed Billy at two, four, and six, Matt was watching Home Alone on repeat in

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Day 28: Déjà Vu by Sherri Turner

On the 28th Day of Christmas Sherri Turner gave to me… It all seemed so familiar: the bushy tree, the presents wrapped in red and gold, the twinkling fairy lights. Holly laughed. Of course it did. Kevin always picked the fattest tree, he knew she loved red and gold and they’d had those lights for

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Two Turtle Doves and a Partridge—To Go by Mark Halpern

Yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Claus. But he died for our sins. “Thank you Amazon Japan,” said Edward to his iPad. He’d purchased a foot stool—bland, functional, cheap—without visiting a store. Thank you was just words. Edward felt no gratitude. Stores were the biggest rip-off, especially department stores. But Edward tolerated their prepared-food kiosks,

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FICTION: The Secret Patron by Graham Kirby

I arrived in New York in the late summer of 1883, having crossed by the Guion Line with the Liverpool and Great Western Company. At once, I set myself up with digs in Lower Manhattan near the Christopher Street Pier on the Hudson River, at the time a dark nest of competing factions. Wrapped up

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Day 20: Middle of Nowhere by Marie Day

On the 20th Day of Christmas Marie Day gave to me… Marnie’s all in white; a celebrity ghost of Christmas past, hammering on my door at two in the morning. ‘Don’t worry, no one’s died.  Except mebbe me career.’  She stumbles over the stone step into the house.  The whiff of white wine and Black

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