Vandemonium and CreativityTakesCourage
Welcome to our collection of Short Stories and Politically Incorrect Humour
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 …
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 …
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 …
The look my husband, Dave, gave me as I
walked through the garage battered into the confidence and determination I’d felt mere seconds before.
I’d been loaded for bear and fully prepared for a strenuous confrontation before that look. Now I was back to confusion and self-reflection. All due to that expression on his handsome, familiar face. Read More …
Dave always keeps his promises. He drove home from work slowly, pondering the sad state of his marriage. Things were bad enough that a normal man would have requested a divorce long ago. But Dave wasn’t a normal man. Read More …
THE SCENE: A COURTROOM IS SET UP to make the inhabitant of the dock feel isolated and intimidated. Its positioning made somewhat of a lie of the legal concept of innocent until proven guilty. It is set as far from anyone else in the room as the space permits. In particular, it’s a long way from where its occupant’s defence counsel, sometimes their only friendly face, inhabits. It is positioned at the foot of the raised platform where the stern looking judge sits, looking down at them. Read More …
THE SCENE: Astrid is on the phone in the kitchen, multitasking; talking and cooking. She looks up as her husband, Dave comes in from work. Behind him is another man; muscled, blonde and rugged looking. Read More …
THE SCENE: John Brown is sitting in a bar, having a quiet Friday night beer. His newly ex-wife, Gaynor, enters, and after looking around hurries over. Read More …