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.
…at the house through the windscreen and tried to gather his thoughts. This was it. It was time to admit everything and face the consequences. He knew what he had done was wrong. He knew he should have come sooner. It was time. Even if the outcome was bad for him, he would still…
By Chris Platt
Read More…was in the pub with his friends. Every Friday night they would flock to the Nag’s Head, their local pub. They would laugh and talk and drink before staggering home to bed to sleep off the booze. They were all in their early twenties and had such busy social lives. There always…
By Chris Platt
Read More… stepped through the double-doors and into the social club. He was puzzled for a moment by the darkness inside. He had arranged to play a few frames of pool with his brother in law and was due to…
By Chris Platt
Read More…say the destination
Is the purpose of our trip
Others say the journey’s
the reward…
By Mike Turner
Read More… wait in wonder as the light begins to fade
And mist appears, mysterious, as if to set the stage
Where sits a single smooth-faced stone, in silent solitude
Demanding my attention, my eyes unblinked…
By Ranger CR
Read More…handed him a cup of water. As he sipped the water, he tried to recall the accident. He had been repairing the guttering at the house he shared with his parents. That sounded vaguely familiar…
By Chris Platt
Read More...on as the new member of staff was being shown around the office. Beverley was the new operations manager. As soon as Joy met Beverley, she knew they were going to get along. There was ...
By Chris Platt
Read More... 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 More... beside him, Lauren looked on too. Billy whizzed along. The eight year old peddled frantically, laughing in delight. The grey clouds loomed over-head. It would be raining soon, by the look...
By Chris Platt
Read More
