Pick of the day

False Witness (Part 1)

Danny couldn’t figure why the woman at the departure gate was so familiar. He didn’t know her through work or school days or university. But soon as she’d caught his eye, snuggled down in a bucket seat reading a paperback, 747s taxiing in the window behind her, something snagged in his brain. 

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Story of the week

Making Merry at Ned's

“You’re a little early,” said Ned. “I don’t start serving till eight.”
Santa scratched at his beard and took a seat at the bar.
“It's not booze I’m after,” said Santa. “I just need to get something off my chest, and yours was the only door open this morning. I could stand outside in the cold muttering to myself or I could warm myself in the company of a friendly face. You seem friendly enough.”
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Poem of the week

Christmas Skies

An homage to John Betjeman and inspired by his poem written in 1954 called ‘Christmas’  

 

Christmas Skies

Chiming church-bells peal from afar,

summoning souls this time of Advent,

metaphorical apostolic door held ajar,

midwinter rain sent as seasonal rent,

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Features

Story and Poem of the Week and Inspiration Point

Posted by onemorething:

Another weekend, another storm on the way. Perfect for writing though!

 

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Story and Poem of the Month

Our Story and Poem for the Month of November, very kindly chosen for us by Turlough

 

 

 

ABC Tales Story and Poem of the Month for November

 

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Saltburn, by ABCTales Writer Drew Gummerson. Pre-Order your Copy!

Very big congratulations to Drew Gummerson whose new book Saltburn, has a publishing date and can be pre-ordered on the link below. Here's what Drew says:

 

Saltburn.

 

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Want to join ABCTales?

We've had to suspend the automatic joining facility for a while so if you would like to join us please email 

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Posting From Your Android Phone - Fixed!

Some of you have been having issues with posting your work using an android phone. Ewan and John our techie have been working really hard to fix this.

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Bee's Journey

Picks of the Month

Cricks Crocodile

 

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The Bus Stop (IP)

At Tottenham’s stop in the bright midday sun,
Two old dames wait, and the bus hasn't come.
One shakes her cane, her patience near snapped,
Mutters "All the world seems so terribly trapped".

"This bus is as late as my Arthur was, bless,
The world’s just a blooming old terrible mess”
But her friend, with a grin and gleam in her eye,
Pats her hand softly and says, “Now, don’t cry!

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