Vandemonium and CreativityTakesCourage
Welcome to our collection of Short Stories and Politically Incorrect Humour
THE SCENE: The home of Dave and Jennifer Brown, childless married couple. Jennifer and her best friend, Julie, are going through their weekly ritual of sharing a wine at the kitchen table after some shopping. Read More …
I STOPPED MID-MOTION while putting the garbage from the aftermath of the barbecue in the bin. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and something akin to a cold shiver washed over me from head to toe. This wasn’t the first time. In fact, it happened every time I had a déjà vu experience. This one was a subset of those experiences. I called it jokingly, déjà poo: the strong feeling that this shit had happened before. I paused to analyse this feeling of familiarity. Read More …
I looked around the room at all the sad, tearful faces present. I wasn’t surprised at all by their grief. My husband, Dave, had been a terrific father, successful businessman, great supporter of our community, and a loyal friend. Read More …
OKAY, I’LL ADMIT, maybe it wasn’t the most sensitive thing I could have said to my wife, “Um, if you’re never going to feel like it, um, do you mind if I go elsewhere? I promise to be discreet.” Read More …
UPDATED EPILOGUE
MY CELL BOUNCED off the bed from where I’d thrown it and landed with a thud on the floor. I walked around the far side, initially intending to pick it up but as I looked down at its blank screen it became the focus of my rage and I kicked it instead. It skidded under the bed. I left it there. What was the point of retrieving it? David was refusing to talk about anything but divorce. Read More …
AS I SIPPED my wine, a nice Shiraz from the Hunter Valley region, I did a leisurely look around at my new colleagues. The company appeared to be just as the lovely Holly Prescott had described at my initial interview: a relatively small boutique publishing outfit that fostered a family feel. The fact they’d organized a small welcome party for me that included the spouses and significant others of the employees backed up her claim. Read More …
WITH MY WIFE KNEELING before me, I didn’t care that the curtains were open, revealing the pitch-black night sky. I didn’t care that any passer-by could see me, could see us. Let them. Let them see me in rapture. It had been so long. Read More …
Kevin McDonald stood impatiently at the arrivals concourse at Chicago’s O’Hare airport waiting for his little brother to arrive from LA. During a scan of the faces of the incoming passengers he caught sight of his reflection in a pane of glass and realised that he looked as haggard as he felt. He’d only managed about four hours sleep in the two nights since the email had arrived from his father. The email that proved the estrangement he’d felt for years toward, not only his father, but his little brother, was based on a lie. The feelings of guilt, remorse, and a terrible sadness for the lost years that could never be retrieved, was eating him alive. Read More …
PENELOPE, OR PENNY as I’ve always called her, and I have been married for twenty-eight years. Our twenty-eighth year marked an ending but also a beginning. It was the year our third and youngest child started college. We’d just dropped her off. That made us officially empty-nesters.
I wanted to use the opportunity to try to rekindle Penny’s and my love life which had waned during the marriage, due mostly to lack of energy and privacy. As working-class people, we have a small house with thin walls, not a huge mansion with nannies and maids. Read More …
Loreal felt her orgasm building. Aaah, she sighed; finally. She moaned into the ear of the guy above, pounding into her, to enhance the experience for him. He continued grunting and sped up. Loreal turned her head away to the side to try to get away from his breath. Beer and stale cigarettes, yuck. Certainly not an aphrodisiac. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and just concentrated on the delicious sensations. They were good, but not enough to tip her over the edge, at least not yet. Maybe with a bit more pounding. Read More …