Home of The Naughty Stories Series
As people said good night and Happy Christmas, David realised the moment he dreaded had come. He had to leave the office and drive on his own to an empty house on Christmas Eve. In his forty-five years on planet Zog he’d never had a Christmas on his own. His parents departed. The kids with …
It was a cold day, as he remembered it, sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. He had the chains on the wheels because where he was going to a friend’s log cabin for the weekend, there was a risk of ice on the road. When he saw the hitcher up ahead of him, he did not …
Jesus was a nervous boy. He also hated Christmas, because it meant birthday. And every year was one year closer. Jesus tapped at the door. He was late. When the door swung open, the party was clearly in full swing. “Come on in! Who are you anyway? Oh, Jesus. Great outfit by the way.” His …
“First you take a drink,” said the drunk on New’ Year’s Eve. “Then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.” With that he downed his drink and stood up. The drunk went out into the night and fell down in the gutter. In the morning, they found him still looking up at …
It was a cold day, as he remembered it, sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. He had the chains on the wheels because where he was going to a friend’s log cabin for the weekend, there was a risk of ice on the road. When he saw the hitcher up ahead of him, he did not …
By his own estimation of the waters you did not need to know much about Piero to know things were looking decidedly lumpy. His wife had left him two years before for a fisherman; his one and only daughter had moved to the north – apparently also in pursuit of a fisherman; as a consequence, …
The new prisoner Seiko decided he did not want the top bunk, which was above the Mute’s. He turned to the Mute and informed him that they were changing places. Then, he picked up the Mute’s blanket and gave it to him. The Mute, however, put the blanket back on his own bunk. “Are you …
Why am I always cutting myself? On aspect and tense, Junk Press21 The Doc sat in one of the pews with his hands together; if not in prayer, but by way of imprecation. Then, perhaps out of habit, he crossed himself and stood up. He walked out of the church. He did not meet a …
Thereafter I was to think of him as a horse with no name, a lion without a mane. In April, several years and several months after J’s disappearance, on Boxing Day, 1999, from a recording studio in Clapham, a horse purporting to work for one of the music magazines she never read anymore phoned up …
After the war, the village used to be inundated with refugees. They stayed three or four months under the care of the Red Cross; then they were packed off to somewhere more important. The only one who ever stayed was Solda. Solda wasn’t a refugee, however; he was a vagrant. But that didn’t make any …