Remember when we headlined at Alleycats, 420 East Street? Remember the heat, the buzz, the whole place packed to the rafters and reeking of liquor and cigarette smoke? Do you recall the spotlights cutting through the haze and the bone-shaking throb of the bass? Good times. The best. Our one chance to shine. Living on potato chips, cocktails, and laughter, we warbled passion to a lazy blues beat and the soulful crooning of...

  I sit on the beach, absently raking fingertips through the warm sand while listening to the cheerful clamour all around. My fellow holidaymakers laugh, squeal, shout to one another, their shrill cries mingling with the raucous shrieks of the gulls wheeling and swooping overhead. My gaze fixes on the waves lapping the shoreline. Each gentle splash and foaming spray is followed by the lulling jingle of shells and stones r...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Face in the shadowsWhere eyes burn black candlesAnd wax in the waterHas armoured the lips,A soul freezes hellWith the loneliness cruel,And the silence is lostWhere the knife of noise slips.The buzz and the humOf the jostling friendsWho are not friends in truth,Nor are saviours of peace,Are a salve to the guiltyWho hide all their...

December 22, 2015 Ricky breathes deeply as he walks through the park. The air, sweetened by the scent of pine and cooled by the fallen snow, refreshes his lungs and spirit. It’s barely evening, yet it’s already dark out, the sun having slipped below the horizon. The snow on the ground is new and untrodden. It casts a luminous blanket all around, as if flying above the clouds at night. He and Crystal are all alone in the p...

 Connor Mulrooney sauntered into the members-only back room of the North Philly Irish Pub with his usual swagger, grabbed a Guinness and settled into a seat that may as well have held a Reserved sign. His chair, the one he always occupied during their weekly gatherings, notably sat right next to Billy’s — not that Connor or anyone else expected the boss to show up. He rarely did anymore, not since "The O’Sullivans," the t...

“Are you afraid of the dawn?” she asks, watching him with a half-smile on her face as he scrambles around the room, frantically pulling down the curtains. The new darkness bathes them both in soft candlelight. It smoothes out her angular lines and eases the sharpness of his jaw. But even gentle light cannot take the edge off a soul, and he grinds his teeth, while her nails tap out a nervous rhythm on her wine glass. “I’m...

He pulled his cloak over his head and brushed away a few errant flakes of snow from his shoulders. He breathed out a long breath into his cold, rough hands, this warmed them with incredible speed. He stepped out from the Coaching Inn into the day. His footfalls were cushioned by the blanket of fresh snow. His long staff arced its way through the air as he walked, and made a small dent in the snow close to his right footpr...

Moonlight edged through the tree branches high overhead, as the wind howled through them bringing a sharp cold slap to her face. Darkness seeped under the canopy far above, shrouding the world in shadow. There was one small flicker of light that illuminated the cover that encased it.Her fingers grew numb, holding the iron candle holder. A dark blue candle for banishing glowed with enough light to illuminate her pale face,...

Inspired by the work of Anne Stokes, 'Solstice Gathering'Ariane stood atop the castle battlements and looked out across the heavily wooded landscape that stretched far into the distance as far as she could see. It was the twenty-first day of December in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and twenty-three. All along the castle walls, torches flared, casting an eerie flickering light but still she stood, watching, waitin...

CalmEvening Brings quiet.Father Sun diesDarkening the copseAs deeper night begins.Mother Gaia sleeps with us,At rest beneath the barren limbsOf leafless trees trembling in damp windForeshadowing new growth with promised spring.With MorningPleas ring outBeseeching bothThe shining Father And fertile Mother Earth. When will light and life return. Gifts are offered on raised altarsThis is the shortest day of each yearSo we cr...

Here tears reign,And Self cannot be pulled togetherWhen Self is screaming, torn asunder,Where empty shell is welling up whilstEyes of others rollAgainst the failings of thisSelfish child,So called becauseShe cannot rule whatOthers hide and stow away.'Midst the back streets of her mind,Her common sense is raging cruelTo lash her weakness,Scorn self-pityAnd loathe the drama queenShe...Is?She knows not where or when they sto...

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said, frantically fumbling with the computer mouse. She smirked. “That isn’t the Victoria’s Secret website?” Failing to minimize the screen, he switched tactics. “I’m looking for your Christmas gift." “Oh? And only 364 shopping days left!” He stroked his beard and chuckled nervously, “Well, after all, I’m a busy man.” “You work one night a year!” she snapped. “Besides, you have an entire...

The Christmas present ticked and would open soon. They've chosen one out of billions annually since the Code was deciphered because its power must be limited. They placed the box in my home on Christmas Eve, timer set for eight in the morning. I'm waiting in the living room now, heart thundering, unknowable sciences about to bring you back. You'll be there, naked. Alive. Every memory retained. Even your death. You'll ask...

"You got what for my mother?""A vibrator.""Why?""She was complaining about her sore feet.""So you bought her a vibrator?""I was trying to help!"The wife chased her husband out of the house. He ran until he lost her, then made his way back home, once he was sure she had stopped chasing. Looking at the present, the woman realised her mistake."Aw, bless him," she smiled, her eyes welling up.She found him wandering and confus...

I am a lover of words.  I like  What they do to my tongue.Each letter  Whispers its own tune  To me,  When spoken together  A song. Like love,  How it opens the lips,  Extends the tongue,  Closes with a kiss,  Sounds hopeful. How the letter O,  When accentuated,  Can leave you breathless.  The entire face must work together  To form it. Fuck…feel...fight…fun… How do you make  Sex?  You fall short of gritting your teeth. ...