Tag Archives: short story

Cars, Ormeau Road, 1.

The roar of a high-performance engine and the squeal of tyres turns my head. A shining, beefed-up muscular mini, containing a skinny young man with short hair and wearing dark glasses, speeds down the hill towards town. The man’s tattooed right arm is hanging out … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Guest Post: ‘Mr Gabor’s Day Out,’ by Michael Costello.

Mr Gabor had a problem. Standing in front of him was a pretty young girl waving her arms and speaking very slowly. She appeared to be saying the word ‘DOWN!’ quite loudly, as if she assumed he was hard of … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A View from the Abyss

This morning is different to the others. I awake lying naked on a plain of polished obsidian. It is lit by a dim, pale, light, as if the crescent moon were hidden behind a thin covering of cloud. The plain stretches … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Guest Post: ‘Spencer, my Planter Moniker,’ by Brian John Spencer.

‘The civil tongue that masks the uncivil mind.’ Eamon met a minister. The calvinist cleric called him “Seamus.” My friend corrected him. The preacher cooly followed, “Same thing.” “What’s your name?” “Robert,” responded the minister. “Ok great, William.” My friend … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A New Direction, Part 6.

Previous parts are here. If you haven’t been following the story, this episode won’t make any sense. Could be fun anyway though. *** “Is it just yourself for breakfast then?” The landlady looked Davy up and down with cool disapproval, eyebrows raised. … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Guest Post: ‘Home, Home Home, and the Telling of Stories,’ by Anthony Joseph Black.

‘HOME’ MAY BE WHERE THE HEART IS, but where does that leave ‘home home?’ I live in Belfast, but I am not from Belfast. I moved here at eighteen, just shy of thirty years ago, to attend Queens. I grew … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

One Moment

There’s a pink balloon blowing along beside the path in the Ormeau Park, left over from some charity event. The wee girl is delighted to find it, and lifting it runs along through the tall gates and onto the broad … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Drama.

Loaded gun. Never fired. Sorry, Chekhov.

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Hanging up the Boots

The veterans are uniformed in dark suits with black ties; there are no medals. They sit at the back like the bad boys on the bus, chattering slightly too loudly during the minister’s opening gambit. The lads are venerated, and … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Selfish Gene?

“How come some people get away with it?” “Get away with what?” “They don’t suffer from unhappiness.  Sure, they get pissed off every now and again when something goes wrong, but it’s temporary, a wee setback that doesn’t have any … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments