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.
…prejudice, job discrimination on the basis of race!” Robert’s voice boomed as he shouted his complaint towards the waspish, angular man, essentially his boss. With a pinched expression, and wire-rimmed bifocals, Moorhead wore a tailored suit and polished shoes worth a few months mortgage. “It’s illegal and could get us sued and publicly…
By John Tavares
Read More…getting colder every day. He didn’t really have any way of fighting the cold either. As it was, he was already wearing just about every piece of clothing he owned. The only things left in his army surplus backpack were a couple of t-shirts and one pair of socks. Of course there was the ratty sleeping bag too, but that was for nights, when it got really…
By B Hazy
Read MoreThe Gidat fall to an evil King with unnatural powers.
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…was the heart of Sadat. People filled the Sacellum, the place gidats returned to every three unters to hear the Gidat. The holy sanctuary was rivaled only by the Palace which stood on Hilltop looking down on the…
By Eme Savage
Read More…thumbed through his paperback book as the bus trundled across Salford. He tried to concentrate on the novel while also keeping an eye on where he was. He really didn’t want to miss his stop. He completed his journey, half in the real world, and half in the noir world of the gritty thriller he was engrossed in. As he read, ideas for stories of his own popped in his head, some were twists on the story…
By Chris Platt
Read More…said from the desk. The night crew left the confetti on the floor from the day prior. Their inmate named Nightshade was let go. They threw him a party; the confetti was toilet paper bleeding with ink; many of them had fresh tattoos from their celebration. The night clerk reported the scene but the night crew let them have at it. Nightshade was a robust guy with wide…
By Candace Meredith
Read More…hopped off the bus with a smile on his face. As the bus doors hissed shut behind him, he headed down the high street. There was nowhere like Manchester city centre. He could spend hours mooching around the city. He particularly enjoyed the area known as the Northern Quarter. The streets had a buzz all of their own. The Northern Quarter had an old-fashioned yet…
By Chris Platt
Read More…was pulling on his coat, about to leave for another day of nine-to-five drudgery and office politics, when the letter came through his letterbox. It landed on the mat, face up, lying invitingly. The top corner of the white envelope bore the hallmark of Esther Dennis, the latest publisher he’d submitted his novel…
By Chris Platt
Read MoreA day in the life of heroin addict Santiago and the search for his girlfriend.
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…drinking at Jeff's Pub with a guy who enjoys my company for some strange reason. My guess, he's entertained by my witty, sarcastic and what he considers humorous dialogue. This guy is obnoxious, poor hygiene , a bigot, a racist and a dedicated Catholic with a firm belief in God. He is also my Barber…
By Judge Santiago Burdon
Read More…adjusted his bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath before pushing through the creaking double doors of the old scout hut. The seven people sitting around the long table in the middle of the room turned to see who was joining them. A woman in her fifties got to her feet, smiling politely. She removed her reading…
By Chris Platt
Read More…rolled over and switched off the buzzing alarm clock. Seven a.m. He sighed. Had he slept at all? It felt like he’d been awake all night. Hardly surprising, these days, though. By December 2020, having lived under the shadow of the global pandemic, did anyone sleep like they once did? We don’t sleep, he thought, we just lie down and close our...
By Chris Platt
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