short story

The note flapped from the letterbox, not even pushed in far enough to fall through and land with a flutter on the spiny welcome mat that collected stray mud from the soles of our boots. Written in thick black marker pen…

They descended on the abandoned car dealership on the outskirts of town, their headlights flashing in the window of the empty showroom and the sign that read ‘Byrne’s Motors – New & Previously Enjoyed Cars’ faded through neglect to a…

The first thing I read by Ernest Hemingway was a short story called 'Hills Like White Elephants'. I had never read anything like it before. It kind of changed everything for me. I threw away my thesaurus that day. Okay, I lied; I didn't…

Easy does. Mirror. Signal. Manouevre. Thread the steer wheel through my hands, pull into layby. Then sit with car purring underneath me like, how you say, a sated tiger. A piece of sweat run down my forehead. I wipe on sleeve so it not…

Robert Donnelly, Irish poet. b. Dublin, Ireland 1984 – d. Buenos Aires, Argentina 2047   Until his premature death at the hands of a primary school teacher, Robert Donnelly was something of a cautionary tale. One may argue that he…

The radio shrieked with report of simian rebellion. “The apes… the apes… They have rebelled and there are too many… I... Don’t know what to…” The signal was too distorted to say for sure, but Farmer Jones was fairly confident that he…

Fourth Class. “D’yeh wanna play chasin’?” He looked up at Max. Max was usually mean; he didn’t want to be tricked. He looked around Max. David, Séamus and James were among the group standing at the door waiting for him, they were…

I’ll tell you all about the fella who lived around the corner there. Gary Traynor was his name. Gary Traynor lived most of his life in, in terror. Now, it was a sort of irrational terror that was based heavily on disgust. To be particular,…

“This bench meant the world to old Paul. Every day for nearly twenty years, without fail, he would sit here and watch the world go by. There isn’t a regular of the park, who didn’t know Paul. Whether we knew him merely to nod to and…