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.
…man was eighty-four. Every morning his Chesterfield chant was heard above the clatter of his cart on the cobblestones. His donkey ambled down Pride Street to McGee and Gibbon. His strawberry travels were part of the daily rhythms of the neighborhood. His jingle was the music of the day, and his wailing serenade through the dew was a sign to the neighborhood that they belonged…
By Giulio Magrini
Read MoreThe quest of an addict…
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…the needle broke off in my arm again. It's these cheap Insulin syringes the Nuns hand out by the park. They don't last more than two or three times then they're useless. You can't even sharpen the point on a matchbook without the flimsy needle breaking…
By Judge Santiago Burdon
Read MoreAfter dropping Princess Lida off…
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…celebrated ‘patriotism’ with the imperial family façade trying to establish a backbone stuck in the middle to the divided land on the border. Waving in the sunny blue skies high above the Princess Lida’s castle was a red, green…
By Marc OBrien
Read More…was struggling with writing his stories. He had been writing weird tales ever since he was a kid. Writing was the only thing he’d ever been interested in. It was also the only thing he had ever been told he was any good at. Over the years he’d had teachers rave over his stories…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreA story about the life of a poor girl
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…into the family of an alcoholic abusive father and a heartless mother, not knowing this is how her life is going to…
By Emmatobs
Read MoreHormones were stirred and had their way.
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…had been friends since fledging last spring. No one approved of their friendship but them. Churrr’s father thought her friendship with a Sparrow indecent. Click’s father thought it foolish. Their mothers were inclined to fretting…
By K. L. Shipley
Read More…tugged his tie down an inch and dashed across the office car-park. It had been an awful day at the office. His head was mashed, a throbbing pain nagged at his temples. It wasn’t the perfect day to go and meet his girlfriend’s parents for the first time…
By Chris Platt
Read More…evolved from that brown-eyed Keane* child, she degenerated to an evil strain of our family. She was an exemplar of an evil daughter and sister. She didn’t like to talk to family and was fond of going upstairs to her room after dinner rather than converse or answer questions…
By Giulio Magrini
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