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.
…looked around at her family crammed around her dining table. It had been a squeeze but they’d all managed to fit somehow. Christmas was such a magical time, a time for family. Her brothers, Mikey and Christy, were raving over the spread of food she had put together. The table was full of everything you could…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreWhen Christmas Eve's clock…
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…the hour turning midnight and Christmas Eve transitioning to day Princess Lida sat on her perch pondering the…
By Marc OBrien
Read More…on the steering wheel, sending the pick-up truck skidding around the corner. Simon, in the passenger seat, and Kathy in the back, slid and swayed with the rocking of the vehicle. The bank robbery had gone well. They had made it away with the loot. Now, they just had to make their…
By Chris Platt
Read More…awoken by his alarm. The morning sun is streaming in through the window of his room and into his eyes. It's bright and warm, and for once Keith feels good in bed—not even sore from the night before. The bed shifts as Lance rolls over beside him, stretching out languidly. His hair is sticking up every which way and…
By Helen R. Steel
…came bursting into the house, red-faced and sweating from playing out on the park with his friends. There was nothing he enjoyed more than tearing around with his mates. He had just a vivid imagination and everything was an adventure. His mother and father looked up from their paperback…
By Chris Platt
Read More…clutched his written story and looked around at his friends, his fellow story writers. They were gathered in his small apartment room, squeezed in on the sofas and sitting on the floor rugs, all eager to hear what he had written. The group exchanged stories, shared ideas and were, as far as…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreFaced boredom one…
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…hovered over the Farm on night 365 and young Paulie closed the schoolbook’s next chapter before pushing his chair out. Standing up motioning towards the door, he saw…
By Marc OBrien
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