Home of The Naughty Stories Series
Stories published by MagickGate
Hamid and Ali were playing in the street one day when Hamid asked a poignant question. “Who do we belong to?” “What do you mean?” “Well firstly I know we belong to our families at home.” “Yes, that’s true.” “Secondly, if we are all together at school, we would belong to the school!” “Yes, that …
They were in the middle of the Kyzl Kum Desert; the carriage was infernally hot. The conductor Ermat, who was already drunk, sat down and offered the American some vodka. “What are you doing here?” he said. “Soldier?” The American shook his head. “Ex-soldier, like me… I was in Afghanistan.” Ermat began to describe his …
Writers’ conferences always brought out the most bookish of folk, reflected Axel. Then he bumped into Lulu. They chatted genially about Gunter Grass and blogging, Georg Pabst and, funnily enough, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, when she dropped the unexpected. “Thing is, my father was a donor. I was brought up by two women.” A throw-away line, …
At the end of the war, fleeing the advancing Americans during the Battle of the Bulge, a band of German soldiers found themselves in a remote valley of the Upper Rhine. The band had long forgotten what it meant to be soldiers in the Third Reich. If they owed allegiance to anything, it was the …
Well, that just about sums it up. Maude’s fallen asleep, snoring, and I can’t find my ear plugs! Then I see we have a text from Pushkin, who, naturally, is always up at this time of night… There is a link to a site in Cyrillic, and some rather grisly photos, followed by this rather …
“I have the body of an eighteen-year old. I keep it in the fridge.” Spike Milligan From my point of view this Milligan is pretty dark. You don’t expect a comic to think like a mass murderer. In Italy we have many comics. Unfortunately, they are all in politics. My friend Patti says they are …
Brothers Nicola and Michele Campanile were farmers from the backwaters of Basilicata in Southern Italy. They lived down a woody dirt track several kilometers from the local town in a shared farmhouse. On one side of the house, Michele lived with his wife; Nicola lived on his own on the other side of the house. …
Harry was a painter. He had painter’s overalls, a van and a ladder. Harry was pretty fit and good looking but, while he had some successes with girls, his big mouth nearly always got him into trouble long before he could test his charm on female company. One barmy night in June he finished up …
Sabi had been away on business in the north. When she got to Raff’s place, he was out, so she phoned him on his mobile. “Where are you, amore?” “At the Poly. – Where are you?” “Sitting on your bed.” “With or without your undies?” “Porco, when are you coming home?” Sabi hung up. As …
“I’ve only got two days so we should get going,” said Ric. “What bar should we go to?” Rav smiled. “You don’t need to go to bars anymore,” he said. “What? You’re messing with me, right?” “Well, you can. But you don’t need to.” “What do you mean I don’t need to? How else am …