family
Don't Lose Your Cool
It was happening. They warned us that it was coming a few months ago. I’m not sure if most people believed them or not, but I’m sure they believe them now. Back in March, it was predicted that this was going to be a very hot summer. Last week, it was forecast that today would be the hottest day on record. And now it was here.
By David E. Perryabout a month ago in Fiction
The Unopened Six-Pack
"Did you hear that?" Cole hadn't been asleep, not really, just lying in the dark on the top bunk with his eyes shut, listening to the cabin settle around him the way old wood does, ticking and sighing like it remembered something. He opened his eyes. "Hear what."
By Diane Fosterabout a month ago in Fiction
Monster Heel-in-Law (Part 1). Top Story - August 2026.
The aura was wild, yet magical, at the weekly show for Infinity Women's Wrestling. The main event was a captivating one, as Cassie Horn, a highly popular fan favorite in IWW, faced off against Kristina Richards, an arrogant spoiled princess. Both women started their careers at the same time, each one had six years under her belt, and they had went through each other on more than one occasion, either for title contention or for actual titles.
By Clyde E. Dawkinsabout a month ago in Fiction
The Last Fire of the Season
The leaves had been falling for three weeks straight, and Angela had stopped raking them. What was the point. They just kept coming, brown and curled like old hands, drifting down onto the stone ring her grandmother had built sometime in the seventies, back when this hollow behind the house was still considered " the far field " instead of just the yard.
By Diane Fosterabout a month ago in Fiction
Hold Onto It for as Long as You Need To
Bryan. I'll avoid the cliche of if you are hearing this I am gone and the cancer won. I guess it's as you always said "Death always wins". I will always be grateful, as long as I am still breathing and if any part of me lives on past this mortal coil, that you took me into your life with open arms and an open heart. You were never perfect, that's true but your flaws showcased your best points. I remember as if it were yesterday when we first met. The smell of fresh coffee grounds and a sourdough loaf gently toasting as the radio played what would become our song. Your smile disarmed me when i turned to you as we crushed against one another. Awkwardness followed undercut by that warm smile of yours that emanated sunshine. "What are you doing?" I asked as you nudged past me. "Trying to get some donuts" seemed an apt response even if I was still a little angry. "The coffee is on me and you can share my donuts if you like." Again the perfect response. I couldn't. But I did. And you with your wicked tongue charmed me. ... I'm having to record this in sections because the chemo or the cancer are kicking my arse. ... Hold onto it for as long as you need to. "Who you talking to, Phia?" ... Do you remember our first visit to the beach? It was overcast, and the gulls were making an almighty racket. We stayed in my beat up Beetle for about an hour just talking before we braced the brisk sea breeze. It was one of the first times I felt safe with you. You didn't offer me your coat or any trite bullshit like that. Even though secretly I think you wanted to. But the respect you afforded me made me feel safer than your mouldy old raincoat ever could. ... There are things I hated about you. Really small irritating things. I bet you're laughing. I hope you are. I think I'll miss that the most. Even though it pissed me off how much you knew I loved your mischievous grin and how a smile would tip so effortlessly into a snicker then a full out of control belly laugh. I couldn't not laugh along with you. Things that upset me though stayed with me. But so did you. We never shied away from the uncomfortable stuff. Well maybe I did. No, I definitely did. Remember when I flew to Liverpool just to have time to myself because I got so caught up in my emotions? Mother had just passed and I felt lost. Not even safe with you. Safe emotionally. I just wanted to escape. But just as death always wins, you reminded me that when I was upset and wasn't sure what I needed, the world was much smaller than most imagine. You'd followed my digital trail. Crafty bastard. And I was surprised to get a call from reception about whether or not I knew a daft arsehole with a baseball cap and a Brummie accent. I think you knew my heart would swell. Arsehole. ... Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I don't like this anymore. This train has departed but there's no stops. I see you, in the corner of my eye. Decompressing. If you weren't the man I fell in love with... Maybe you'd have ditched me and wouldn't be in so much pain behind those stupid brown pools of warmth. You still are crap at closing cupboards and the coffee cup rings on the table, the mantlepiece, the windowledge, the bath and the toilet cistern. They never delighted me. Whenever we had guests though you'd always forget to clean one. I remember my old great aunt Margery commenting on how insanitary it was to keep a coffee in there as you widdled. Your response Without thinking. Sharp as a fucking tack without any sense of tact. Bet you're mouthing along with me. "I can widdle hands free, just as you can" Ach my throat and chest fucking hurts from laughing but her face was a picture. That you took. Then sketched. Then hung on the fucking wall. Such a moron at times. ... Today was a shit day. I can't record much. I love you. Your kiss left an imprint on my head. I think you burst a gum. Anyway. ... We did alright didn't we? I know there was stuff we gave up on...dreams. When you had your accident and your nerves were bad. I knew you were hurting and were being brave about it. But I admired how you found new passions. ... I think our lives are forever overshadowed by Ann-Marie. But I can't talk about her today. Remember our song? I hope it still makes you happy even when all you have is this recording. Don't let it become sad. ... Today was better. Not a complete turnaround. Hopes still held high we're going to beat this Grade 4 glioblastoma. But we danced. Well you tried. I still swing better than you even as a walking corpse. I already miss that strange frogman walk. Waltz has never looked less graceful yet it's the only waltz I need. You saw my tits didn't you? That is the power of the frogman waltz and your left footedness. Directionless prick. ... I think I told you I loved you last recording. I don't want to overdo it. Give you a big head. This cancers a clingy bastard. Shit. I dozed off. Is it still recording? "Yes love. I'll go and put a tea on." Hear that? That was past you. Remember that clingy fucker. Manuelle or Madrid Stan as you called him for some unknown reason. Harmless really but couldn't take a hint until you showed up at the bar behind him. "Scuse me amigo, I just need to get my pina colada and my fruity cocktail in the cute lil dress." You thought you were so funny. But then. You know. ... I looked up funeral poems today. For fucks sake don't you fucking dare read that one about "I'm not in my grave". I will haunt you worse than your old biology teachers warty chin. Read something like "The Ning Nang Nong" by Spike Milligan. Did you smile? I did that message when you were out getting some lubricant. Remember? Date night. You lucky bastard. Screwing a walking corpse. There's a sub Reddit where people are envious of you. Probably. My nightie had some blood on it. But my eyes were eager. I think. ... Yes they were. And you were easily the best post-cancer treatment fuck I've had. ... Please don't become too comfortable as a a widower and please remember that toilet roll inners go in the bin. They are not there for create pyramids with. That wasn't endearing. It was fucking irri... ... Irritating. ... I'm sorry. ... Ann-Marie. Bless her. You know it wasn't your fault. Right? I know you're arguing but stop it and look at that beautiful photograph we have. It wasn't anyone's fault. It just was. ... Wotists don't taste like they used to and I can't tell if it's the cancer or chemo ruining my taste buds or a change in recipe. I hope it's the cancer, for your sake. Too much? ... It's all too fucking much. ... When my father was diagnosed you were just. You. It was like you were born for disaster. You didn't pussyfoot or pander to his desire for roll over and die. By hook or by crook, you made sure he got up and never let him feel indignity when you had to clean up messes. I know mum and you clashed a lot but that whole devastating period in all our lives shaped her and changed her. She came to adore your stupidity because she got to see first hand up close what it represented. Something I've had the pleasure of experiencing for more than 25 years. ... Grating is a word I'd use. Just a thought. ... Don't repaint the hallway. I love the peach tones. I guess it's not up to me but I'm your wife. ... You'd have been a wonderful father. That's even what my mother said. After we lost Anne-Marie. Don't shelter yourself from dad and my sis. They can be pains in the arse and a little controlling but they adore you. ... I am sorry. I can't say anymore. ... When you kiss me I momentarily forget about the fact that my body is breaking down. ... I tried to record today and yesterday but couldn't. I'll make sure it's an extra long one next time. With tits and vagina and talk of memory foam mattresses. ... I don't want this. For you or for me. ... Life is like the Itchen. I guess. Not clear but constantly moving, even if it's not in a hurry. Make of this what you will. ... I am sorry. That's what I wanted to say. You never give yourself time and I know that's because of me. Again, stop arguing.. I know I know, til death do us part. But that's not fair. I'm allowed to feel bad for you. For the way your life has revolves around cancer and a super hot wife that's been anything but of late. Two years is a lot. Too much for most. Why haven't you changed? ... So my tits sadly feel a little sore today but you seemed to enjoy washing them. You lingered a bit too much, mister. It made me feel. Like Sophia again. Not that damn cancer-ridden bitch. She was a great person. You always told me she was. I just tried to be me. That's all you said you wanted. ... I miss Bruce Forsyth. When he died, Strictly lost something special. Was still a delight but it lost its soul. Then Len left and died too. I appreciate. ... Why haven't you changed? Seriously. I often ask myself that. You don't make excuses or complain. Even my mum said you never say anything untoward about caring for someone who is dying. Maybe I'm wrong for wishing you'd break down. I don't mean that how it sounds. This "Do you want another pillow or more painkillers, Phia?" No. This Is too much today. Love you, arsehole. ... Ann-Marie would be five. I know you know but I'm almost glad... I can't even say that. Even now. Is that selfish? "No love. Human." You see what I have to contend with, future you? ... I was thinking about the River Itchen. I know what you're thinking 'you always think about that'. I want to be there, where we always went almost monthly and where we said goodbye to Ann-Marie. ... She still haunts me. I'm glad we never tried to forget her. Our 2-month bundle of joy. I know I tried to run away. Got as far as Gothenburg. But that familiar call from reception came and there was you, a wreck because you just wanted to hold me. I have never been so glad to have booked a queen size suite. ... My love. My arsehole. The last few days have been the hardest and most beautiful. "Sorry Phia to interrupt, do you want a drink?" "Are you too hot?" "Need a pillow?" "Want me to frogman dance for you?" (Laughter erupts followed by coughing and crying) ... "Phia left me recordings. Told me not to read one of those funeral poems. You know the ones. Of course you do. So, I'm going to do as I'm told." Laughter from the congregation cuts through the silence. I don't think Phia knew how extraordinary she was But I did. ... Six months later. It's been six months. Well, my Phia we're here. The River Itchen is looking as quietly majestic as it always did. 's'ok as long as you don't leave that peach coloured urn.' said the keeper. Nice chap. He remembered us. Well. You. Of course. Paid his respects. Time for one last boogie. "I was awoken with a bang..." Of course, 100% Endurance.
By Paul Stewartabout a month ago in Fiction
