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No Greater Love

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No Greater Love She was devoted to her parents and they in turn loved her dearly. They taught her about life and love and morals to live by. She taught them about fashion and travel and how to use technology. Soon they could post, hashtag and make reels. In the November, she moved into her first apartment and they were so happy for her. Especially after the heartache of her last relationship. A cat had started to come by, a Persian type with cloud grey fur. It soothed her and was a companion in the loneliest of days. She called it her own and even let him stay some nights. The real owners must have been out of their minds. She told her parents a cat like that shouldn’t be let out on its own. It was a house cat. Or an apartment cat. She loved the cat, yet she needed to get away, find herself. She planned a three- month trip to Bali. They were so happy for her. Living life, back to herself. Content again. To pass the time in her absence, her father, now enjoy...
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The story so far

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   It was the 4th July 2018. It was independence day but it was also the launch of #worthingflash. The intention was to keep it going for a year. If there was no response it would have closed down.    Instead over 115 writers have volunteered their services for #worthingflash . They have come from every continent, not just Worthing. Over 246,000 people have visited the blog so you can be guaranteed an audience for your work if you write for #worthingflash.    We are surrounded by stories, everything from jokes that begin "Three men went into a pub." to the parables in the Bible. Some are better than others.    I love stories and here is one:      It was a cold wet day in April and for Winston Smith the clocks had just stopped. He sat in a torture chamber. Heavy metal music was played very loudly on a loop. There was a massive poster ‘Big Donald is watching you’.     His lover, Julia, was in the women’s wing of the Ministr...
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Pieces of Eight

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Pieces of Eight is a small magazine which you might like to consider for your work. It is always entertaining and interesting. Membership is open to everyone. There is a maximum membership size of 25 To find out more contact  Heather Turnbull heatheroo@outlook.com
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Taken for a Ride

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Norbert Kovacs Email: norbertk@att.net Word Count: 590 words Taken for a Ride after Bon Voyage! from Los Caprichos by Francisco Goya (Spain) 1799 Jose saw no problem about climbing aboard the angel’s back in his bedroom. He had died after long illness and knew, as a spirit now, he must leave his body behind. For its part, the angel, with its broad, spread wings and lowered head, seemed both able and eager to take him. So, Jose got on, and the angel carried him away. At once, they went coasting through the night air high over his city. What a rush of speed! What a fantastic flurry of roof tops and towers! Could he have deserved as wild an adventure as this?, he asked himself. For he knew, though he kept it quiet, he had not been perfect in life. Not that he anticipated anyone to mind anymore… As they went their course, the angel dove into a couple of homes and took up other spirits who had departed life that cold, dark evening. Jose turned eagerly toward his new companions...
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French Resistance

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FRENCH RESISTENCE A True Story from My Family Archive For six years, Europe had been off limits to tourists, but by the late 1940’s, wealthy Americans were eager to embark on the 20 th Century equivalent of the Grand Tour. Two American millionaires (they’d be multi-billionaires these days) decided to take their wives on a three-month-long tour of European capital cities starting in London. After a couple of weeks, they set off on the European leg of their tour. Naturally at that time, they made the crossing to and from the Continent by ferry. Unfortunately, on both occasions the sea was rough and the journey quite uncomfortable. The Americans wondered why there was no bridge or tunnel; it was, after all, a very narrow strip of water. They resolved to do something to remedy this unsatisfactory situation so, on their return to London, began making enquiries. They soon learned that a famous tunnel engineer had just set up his own firm of consulting engineers in Upper Grosvenor S...
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Heatwave

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Heatwave A heatwave can be defined in many ways depending on where it occurs. In essence, if the temperature rises above normal for a certain period of days this is considered a heatwave. She classed it a heatwave as it was the third day in a row when the fan she had borrowed from her sister stopped doing what it should. Right in the middle of the afternoon. The apartment was airless. The heat rose from the street like a spirit wangling its way up and teasing through the stairways. She turned back from her balcony in disgust. The novelty of the unexpected weather eaten away by the lack of sleep and remorseless discomfort. It had hit with little warning on the Monday and now on Thursday evening, it was unbearable. She pinched her brow with her thumb and forefinger. The skin, dry, despite copious amounts of water, gulped from early morning. She pictured herself as a camel. She wondered what he was doing now. After reading an article on athletes who need to recover qui...
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Prayer for My Father

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Prayer for My Father After the death of a parent, some observant Jews follow the mourning tradition of avelut, which involves going to the synagogue every day for eleven months, to say the prayer for the dead. After my father died, I wanted to honor his death by committing myself to go to temple every day to say the kaddish. The kaddish is the prayer for the dead, but it never mentions the dead. It is just another thank you prayer to a very needy and uncaring god. I went to one Saturday service, but the rituals and language felt so alien to me that I never went back.  The time in that musty old, stucco Palm Springs temple left me feeling totally disconnected from my father and my heritage. And yet I had a strong urge to memorialize my father in some manner. On my way home I drove by a desert swap meet that my father had visited many years ago and talked about until the day he could no longer speak. I parked in the sandy lot and went looking for a particular vendor. My father ...
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