Pick of the day

Trapped in a Train Tunnel (Revised)

We were trapped in a tunnel with a speeding freight train bearing down on us and nowhere to run.  The tunnel's walls, the rails, the ground, our bodies were all shaking from the growling of the diesel engines as they roared toward us. How were we to survive?  We only had moments to decide what to do.

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Story of the week

The Child

A true story.
Photograph by Sergio Maistrello
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Poem of the week


the beauty of dying


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Story, Poem and Inspiration Point of the Week

Lisa Hinsley is a prodigiously talented writer and an inspirational woman.  I'm delighted to announce that her piece Child is our story of the week:


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Story, Poem and Inspiration Point of the Week

It's been a wonderful week for posting on ABCTales and consequently it's been really hard to pick the best of the best -  especially prose - but here are my choices: Poem of the Week goes to Michael S R Valentine for Horreur a Paris - a powerful and heartfelt reacti...Read more

Story, Poem and Inspiration Point of the Week

Whilst Elliot’s Prufrock might have measured out his life in coffee spoons it sometimes feels like I’m measuring mine out in story and poem of the week announcements.  Thankfully stories and poems are far better and more beautiful things to measure ones temporality...Read more

ABCtaler Strikes It Big

It’s always uplifting to be the bringer of good news. 

Many of us know that getting anything published is difficult, even getting a short poem accepted by an obscure journal sometimes seems to be an impossible ambition. 

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Bee's Journey

Thu, 12 November 2015
Wed, 11 November 2015
Wed, 11 November 2015
Tue, 20 October 2015
Thu, 01 October 2015

Picks of the Month

Tattoo man

walks down street,

shaved head bowed -

shoulders slumped

and leathered features

weathered brown.


Dog end loose between 

the yellowed digits -

sucks his smoke from cup of hand;

eyes dart needles,

teeth dyed tan.


Reek of last night's beer 

leaked into denim -

arms exposed and legs bled 

blue blotched ink from foot to neck.

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Remembering Molly

This is from a series of prose vignettes I've written, all of which tie into one story. All entries from the series are semi-biographical, this one in particular reflecting a real situation and based on real people, one of whom was me and the other, a prostitute named Molly. It's rather long but I couldn't split it appropriately so bravo and thank you if you make it to the end!

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