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.
…Purcell shook his head. He hated this part of the job. People these days just didn’t want sales teams knocking on their door trying to sell them things. Every couple of weeks his manager would get this big idea that they should ‘hit the streets’ and drum up new business. And yet again he was encountering…
By Chris Platt
Read More…little mongrel living a spartan existence in the bustling streets of Moscow, the towers of the old palace and the looming shadows of the monuments to the new system that supplanted the ancient empire had no meaning. They were simply part of a harsh landscape where survival was dependent on will, a little luck, and occasionally…
By Nick J
Read MoreWhen bad news Charlie sees an oblong craft zigzag across the sky and cartwheel over the flatlands of Bakersfield, he runs to the crash and discovers he’s hit the jackpot.
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…didn’t have the guts to rob the drugstore in Visalia. The woman behind the coun-ter reminded him of his mother—what a chump. His truck needed gas, oil, a new carbu-retor. No sweat. Now he could buy…
By DC Dismondopolous
Read MoreI should have known something was wrong when the trees started talking back.
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…because I won at a poker game. He was the ringleader, the star of the show, teaching us newbies how to play our hands, how to hide our emotions, when to place the right bet. I proved to be a quick study, surprisingly good. Or just…
By Slyvia Rose
Read More…a recently-hired undergraduate instructor of Latin American Literature at San Francisco State University, likeable and quickly accepted by his students for his intelligence, his cheerful personality and his ethical correctness, was a content and happy…
By Thomas Hally
Read More…stared down into the mouth of the open grave. The name engraved on the coffin lid plaque may have read the name of one of his closest friends but he still couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t have been Tony lying down there. The service was over but he remained. The rest of the mourners were heading back to the cars, to follow the funeral procession to the wake being held at a local social club. Jamie still could not take it…
By Chris Platt
Read More…opened his front door to find his neighbour Sally on his doorstep. She smiled awkwardly and seemed to be in a hurry. They were not the kind of neighbours to call round for a brew and a catch up. Sally would knock on to discuss repairing a fence that the wind had blown down. Phil and his wife Ellen would call on Sally…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreTed Geisel was at the end of his rope. As he walked down Madison Avenue...
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…he made a decision. He would burn the manuscript in his apartment incinerator – 27 rejections were enough – his book would not be turned down…
By Pete Black
Read More…does not adequately describe the apocalyptic disgorging. Though the sink is right there—all I have to do is tip my head forward—contents of my stomach spew forth in firehose fashion. Kitchen window, fringed by lace curtains, rendered opaque by the first heave, completely blown out by the…
By Robert Morgan Fisher
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