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J. C. Jones V - Let us Eat
“Oh, no, no, no, not this time,” said J. C. “Everyone! Get yourselves to the other side of the table. Mary? You slide closer to me. Judas? Front and...
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- 21 comments
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- 3001 reads
The Last Resort
The Last Resort By Paul McCann About six missiles crossed over the rooftops before hitting their target in the city centre . It was the first attack...
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- 386 reads
Payday.
Most of us has experienced payday! It conjures up different things for different people. For some, it is paying off debts. For others, it is paying...
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- 309 reads
Fraction too much fiction
The moment I discover his figure among the former students and teachers; it is as if a piece of rusty barbed wire is being dragged along my...
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- 7 comments
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- 983 reads
Walking On The Stilts Of My Soul
Walking On The Stilts Of My Soul By Paul McCann I was about 11 years of age when I first discovered the stilts of my soul that were a great resource...
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- 150 reads
When I Disappear
WHEN I DISAPPEAR A JOURNEY INWARDLY, TRACING THE PATH OF DISCOVERY. LIVING IN THE MOMENT. WATERFALLS CASCADE, AND DRIFT AWAY EVERYTHING; AS PEACE...
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- 153 reads
Chronicles of Trumpenstein : Ambush At The White House! By (As Distant As Possible!) Armchair Commentator Alfred N.Muggins
Image:
28/2/25 Even Zelensky, proud defender of western democracy and freedoms, is picked upon in a nasty (nazty!) ambush in the sacred home of Democratic...
Flamebearer
(for those who walk both worlds) Some glide in light— barefoot through fields, faces bathed in sun, never knowing the weight of shadows behind them...
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- 816 reads
Road Ribbons to Forever
still cold the orb lay low quick glimpse then hidden motor climbing to drown crow’s haunting early wake-up call blades of light chop dust and dirt...
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- 359 reads
Mother Of Grief
Mother Of Grief by Paul McCann Mother of grief , bring a release to all the unseen pain and encage the torment within . Mother of grief , each day is...
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- 2 comments
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- 300 reads
Carreg Samson
north Pembrokeshire near Abercastle Carreg Samson (Samson’s stone) (– who else could have lifted it on to its throne?) A legend of a local Samson...
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- 5 comments
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- 702 reads
The Patrolman - 24
Mr. Slate dropped to the floor for his evening workout.
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- 146 reads
In The Days That Used To Be
In The Days That Used To Be By Paul McCann In days of golden shimmers when I sat on carousels with music playing in my head and the laughter of...
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- 337 reads
McCalliog And His Hens
“ This story’s all about ducks ,” said Barclay. “ That’s right, ” I said . ” That’s my specialty , duck stories. I’m famed for it. ” “ But the title’...
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- 503 reads
Special, Very.
We have two big dogs. When we have workmen, they are put in cages. One cage is in the tv room, the other cage is in the kitchen. The only thing that...
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- 292 reads
Steelie 18
Von Stehle finds himself whispering too. ‘What kind of help?’ ‘The usual kind of help a woman in my position needs.’ Brittleness and bitterness in...
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- 8 comments
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- 938 reads
Entry 5 — Someone (no—Something) In The House
Journal of Isla Loren March 20 Location: Upstairs hallway outside the second bedroom Weather: Dark, thick like ink sealing the windows Time: 11:14 p...
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- 8 comments
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- 762 reads
Blustery Day Haiku
A Blustery day The trees practise dancemoves Green leaves shimmering.
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- 227 reads
Sketching
I sat myself down on a low stone wall, a semi-circle that splits St Mary’s Road in two. I'm just visiting Midleton, you understand... But I fancied a...
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- 15 comments
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- 1928 reads
What We Remember
Lemon trees soaked in light. A herder calls. You sit amidst Spain’s cracked hills, in olive shade. No need to talk— we’ve heard your voice. Though...
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- 8 comments
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- 1157 reads