Pick of the day
Angel 48 (new beginnings)
Posted by celticman on Thu, 21 Mar 2019
The Caribbean nurse came to see Angel and her twins before she left the ward. Church and Sarah stood by the door waiting to escort her back to prison.
‘Your babies are doing exceedingly well and are exceedingly beautiful,’ the nurse gave Adam and Lisa one last hug before returning then to the cradle, which was also a carry cot.
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The Paperweight (Part 1)
Posted by proudwing on Fri, 15 Mar 2019
(This is a chapter taken from a novel, but I think it makes sense as a standalone piece too.)Miss Harris was halfway through explaining the concept of enjambement when the door opened and Mr Roper walked in.
Everything came to a halt, for Mr Roper entering a classroom was akin to a king entering a court.Read more
Poem of the week
Squirrel Quarrel, North Hackney
Posted by Alfie Shoyger on Sun, 10 Mar 2019
A pair of squirrels quarrel
in the elms above the garden.
...Read moreFeatures
Disoccidented by Alfie Shoyger: A Review
I've been asked to share this review Alfie Shoyger received for his first colle
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We have had to suspend the automatic joining facility for a while so if you would like to join us please email admin@abctales.com with your desired username and we will set up an account for you. It's all free!
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STORY AND POEM OF THE MONTH
Our Story and Poem for the month of February very kindly chosen by Jolono:
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I Dreamt I Wrote Another Me by Alex Smith (london_calling79). Out Now!
The latest release by Cerasus Press - ' I Dreamt I Wrote Another Me' by Alex Smith has just been published.
You can order your copy here:
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Bee's Journey
Picks of the Month
La Femme d'argent
Posted by TFH on Wed, 20 Feb 2019
How could I forget the autumn of 1998, and that weekend in Paris? A sullen, funereal mist folded around the city for the entire three days, fallen gold-and-brown leaves sticking to the soles of our shoes as we walked along the Quai de la Megisserie, gently mocking the efforts of the street artists lining the pavement. We climbed the Eiffel Tower, only to see nothing but a blanket of spectral grey from the top.
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driverless
Posted by Di_Hard on Mon, 11 Feb 2019
the more people run away
the less there is to escape to
the more beauty we buy
the less room we have for truth
we fuel our vehicles with tomorrows
trying to find somewhere like yesterday
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