Tag Archives: short story

The Border

The last true and final peace had been struck. Instead of the raucous celebration we all expected (not to mention the undying adulation of the people sure to follow), we found ourselves greeted with silence and sullen stares.  Our services … Continue reading

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On the Night Shift

    There is a priest in the off-license, buying two bottles of whiskey. His face is pasty and pocked with blotches. His hands tremble as he struggles valiantly to  count out his notes and coins. On his third attempt, … Continue reading

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The Footsoldier

  “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” —Plato   Dust was Lapointe’s world now. Dust was in his boots, inside every crevice of his uniform. It was in his hair, on his tongue. It was in his … Continue reading

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Because I Say So Stories; How Óglach Met His Wife

Glasgow 1994 Nowadays when you see Óglach on the precious few occasions he’s allowed out on his own, he’s an oddly acting fellow indeed. Always walking with his head down and muttering, occasionally stumbling over his own two feet as … Continue reading

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The Night I Beat Up Conor

  To look at him today, to hear him run his mouth and then make good on every boast, you would think Conor was born that way—a nearly unbeatable braggart. But it’s me here to tell you he wasn’t, for … Continue reading

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Thoughts from the bridge

He stared into the water, waiting for the swans. Nowhere in sight. And so he waited a while longer. While he waited, he watched the passers-by. He knew none of them; they didn’t know his story, nor did he know … Continue reading

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Afraid

Tommy’s eyes opened. He knew it was the middle of the night, or early morning, but he was afraid to look at the clock, for fear of seeing the hour. At least I didn’t remember my dreams, he thought. I’m … Continue reading

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