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Its All Fair In The End Game
Its All Fair In The End Game By Paul McCann I first met Firbog on a Belfast back street during a riot in 1968. The British Army had rounded up about...
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- 579 reads
The Bad Notes
The Bad Notes By Paul McCann Aidan and I had a duo . We called ourselves the Bad Notes . After a week in London we managed to get a gig one night in...
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- 517 reads
Princil's Magic : Ch.10 : Festival At Bricas (Part 1: Section 1)
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Valdark, the Great Sorceror, calls Sorceror Aribor back to work. He is sent on a mission with other Black Sorcerors to bring terror to Bricas in Shalirion. He goes into the city in disguise to assess ways of causing distress. He merges with crowds and finds himself at a festival of the Goddess, learning much about the ways of Shalirion. This is Section 1 of this Part.
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- 648 reads
Kit Handsome and the Mysterious Strangers 2
They drove straight back to Toplers Street. “Wait here,” Kit said to Harkaway, “I won’t be long.” Kit was not a team player, and hated the...
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- 553 reads
Bathtub
I don’t have any pretty metaphors left tonight. No flowery language to dull the ache in my bones.
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- 357 reads
A Precious Gift
Autumn is a serenade of calico as gushing water creates a mini-falls over outcroppings of shale. Splashing in hilarious moments of pleasure is a dare...
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- 705 reads
Kit Handsome and the mysterious strangers 1
Kit had spent the weekend on the mainland with Sally. It had been fantastic, the best weekend of his life. They’d barely left the bedroom – she had a...
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- 6 comments
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- 2067 reads
Getting Out Of The Gunfire
Getting Out Of The Gunfire A short story by Paul McCann It was a warm summer evening in 1969 . Belfast was burning . A blanket of thick black smoke...
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- 4 comments
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- 2314 reads
Getting Out Of The Gunfire
Getting Out Of The Gunfire A short story by Paul McCann It was a warm summer evening in 1969 . Belfast was burning . A blanket of thick black smoke...
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- 560 reads
Holy Joe’s
Holy Joe's Short Story by Paul McCann . It was in 1967 when the riots first started . At first rocks and petrol bombs were thrown from both sides of...
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- 2 comments
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- 968 reads
Do You Know Who I Am? Part Three.
Children were raped and abused by up to 100 members of a Manchester grooming gang sixteen years ago - but despite police and social workers knowing...
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- 2 comments
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- 1365 reads
Hang On Enjoy The Ride
Ken was the bus driver for Autumn Hall , the most affordable retirement village in Caterville . Apart from driving the bus it was Ken’s job to find a...
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- 548 reads
Will Peace be Betrayed
by the lamentations in this body once sure and spry now tired and dry parched in spirit and ability to overcome? Yes within this dullard a wisp of...
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- 1 comment
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- 722 reads
In Hate

I am in hate. I used to be in love. But I’m done with that now. It started out so good, too. You wouldn’t believe how good; I mean he was so perfect...
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- 6 comments
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- 1899 reads
Voices [Play extract]
Frosted breath of cold but much needed words. Uncomfortable, undermining words that stab into the air. Harsh and unyielding, tampering with the...
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- 331 reads
Clouded Aura
A reflection on mental illness
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- 2 comments
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- 757 reads
Chapter 2
“Miss Windlor, here is the scroll you requested.” A pale and skinny with long nails reached and seized the scroll. She untied the ribbon holding the secret inside the ancient and beat up looking scroll. The woman read out loud what the scroll said as everyone perked up and stopped what they were doing.
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- 217 reads
Upon Visiting Rembrandthaus
What an honour it feels to sit in your living room, gazing upon oil paintings that came from your hand, at etchings where you impressed your mark on...
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- 3 comments
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- 943 reads
Island HIdeaway 53 (of 53) - Final words
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- 3 comments
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- 1117 reads
Island Hideaway 51 - Everything changes
A shot rang out. The gunman fell to the ground. From nowhere the Boatman emerged, brandishing a rifle. "Sorry to leave it so late," he said. "I...
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- 494 reads


