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.
... I was released from prison, I was determined that this time things would be different. I had been on the wrong side of the law since my teens, and been what the media would call a gangster, a villain, for most...
By Chris Platt
Read MoreI have long wanted to…
————
…hotel staff heard people screaming.
They went to room 240 and knocked.
No one came to the door to…
By Melissa Lemay
Read MoreA moment of hallucination…
————
…came up the front walk holding a pamphlet. A tan shoulder bag hung low. Reed peeked through a crack in the curtain and thought: She’s a babe. Good looking. Stylish. The doorbell rang and shortly…
By D.A. Helmer
Read More…flailed about on his bed, entangled in a mass of sweaty sheets and blankets. David slowly started to come out of his stupor, stuck in a surreal and frightening dimension between sleep and wakefulness. His eyelids felt stuck together and his mouth was…
By The Sicilian Storyteller
Read MoreA hardboiled crime story…
————
…a dishwasher at the Greasy Plate Café in Santa Cruz. And her sex life was nearly nonexistent: there were a few lovers, but after the sex it was always the same in the morning, a note left on the bed: It was fun. I’ll call you––her phone never…
By D.A. Helmer
Read More…trouble is, I got indicted for selling smack. Actually, I wasn’t the one pushing. This kid, named Enrique Henderson, was selling the horse, and he was paying me protection money for it all the while. Now the boss, Mr. Spirochete, he really frowns on the selling of narcotics, you know? He had started an edict—you deal, you die. Two behind the ear, just like…
By Jack Bristow
Read MoreCrimes Against Humanity
————
…common knowledge that government is trying to pass B23-0171 and also launch advertising into your child’s mind, for them to give their consent, for the shot to…
By Tracey Ross
Read MoreThis is a short crime piece I wrote, which is a departure from my usual suspense!
————
…steam was especially thick. It was the kind of steam that made you wish that you had gills instead of lungs. It was the perfect steam to melt the toxins out of large, subcutaneous bodies. One such beluga sat, piled on the tile bench leaning his Grecian mane against the dripping wet wall behind him, a thick gold chain draped across his chest, a white towel loosely covering his less-than-impressive unmentionables that were pasted by sweat onto the cool tiles of the…
By a stump
Read More
