The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
Liam Brown headed home from another bad day at the office. The bus was forty minutes late and crammed with unhappy commuters. Grumbling under his breath, he showed the driver his monthly ticket and pushed his way …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreDS Paul Cole took a sip of tea and stared at the information taped to the white boards. There were images from the crime scene and a recent photo of the deceased. Martin Ellroy was thirty-seven years old. He was a well-known author …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreDave and Sue were spending Saturday night in front of the television. There was cold beer, takeaway pizza and rubbish television. The perfect night in. In between the quiz show and the Saturday night film, there was the lottery…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreCarl Thomas read the rejection letter from the publishers and sighed. He had been writing since his teenage years. It was the thing he was most passionate about. He lived for writing. Putting the words on the page, telling these stories…
By Chris Platt
Read MorePete peered out the windscreen trying to tie up the road ahead with the Sat Nav map on the dashboard. He shook his head. There was no doubt about it. They were lost. Pete and his wife Emma had booked a week’s stay at the …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreWhen my wife Pauline suggested we spend our week’s holiday in Spain, I agreed straight away. Spain had always been special to me. I had been fascinated by the country since I was a child. My parents had taken me to Spain on holiday when I was …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreIt was early evening when Will joined his friend in the pub. While all his friends were gathering to watch the football on the big screen televisions, Will was more interested in the catch-up rather than the sport. He was there for …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreI’ve been writing stories since he was a kid. Being a writer was all I ever wanted to be. It was a childhood hobby that I never quite grew out of. All my family and friends would read my stories. As soon as I finished typing up my story, I would…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreLisa had no idea how she got there. She sat up and took in her surroundings. She was bed, in a bedroom, with morning sunlight spilling in through the gaps in the curtains. A man in his thirties entered the …
By Chris Platt
Read MoreTom followed the directions on his Sat Nav, peering through the windscreen, trying to tie up the road up ahead, with the lines on the small screen on the dashboard. He repeated the name of the old place to himself, as though that …
By Chris Platt
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