Pick of the day

First Light


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Story of the week

The Anatomy of a Death

A young Indian woman dies at London’s Victoria Station. This story traces her death, the events which shaped and coloured her eventually leading her to that platform on that day. It tries to answer the questions: Who was she? Was she pushed? If yes, then by whom? Or did she commit suicide, and if so then why? Along the way it explores and questions the attitudes to women across the different levels of Punjabi society, and the pressure women, and...Read more

Poem of the week

Peel Park. New Year’s Eve

By the lake the footprint snow 

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Story and Poem of the Week and Inspiration Point



Two stunning picks for you today - big congratulations to mark_say for 'The Wet Afternoon of Ravilious' which is our Story of the Week, and to Kilb50 for his exceptionally moving 'To a Lone Sailor' which gets my pick for Poem of the Week:

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Sad News

Two sad pieces of news for you today. We've lost two very dear members of our community - Denzella and Coolhermit. They will both be greatly missed.




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Story and Poem of the Month

Our Story and Poem for the month of December, very kindly chosen by Lavadis:


Poem of the month is:

 MJG - The Goodbye - ever more moving each time I read it.

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Seven Nights at the Flamingo Hotel By Drew Gummerson.

Big congratulations to Drew Gummerson for the publication of Seven Nights at the Flamingo Hotel.

Available here: 


Review by Mark Burrow


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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 claudine@abctales.com or jane@abctales.com with your desired username and...Read more

Bee's Journey

Picks of the Month

Because Of The Color (Short Story)

I am standing on the corner of Main and Second when I suddenly become self-conscious of my sweater.

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The Goodbye


No smile or words. Rigid, unyielding,

for that last photograph.

His arm, slack, around my shoulder. I turn from the shot.

Hide my tears, knowing he wants to be gone.


That final blurred image, shutting the car door.

I stumble through weeks of white-hot fury and freezing fear,

invent a radio-crackling theatre of desert and dazzling stars.

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