WMG Archives

Issue No.4 Stories

Remembering Della – Chapter One
© crzadkiewicz

In 1957, the winds of what would later become the Civil Rights Movement were beginning to stir up dust on the horizon . . . .

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The Buenos Aries Boys
© Lawford

He planned this job as initiation for the new boy. If little Gaspara did this well he would be allowed to join the bicycle retrieval squad.

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The night before Christmas
© Danny

“Oh well you make the call I’m going to carve my initials in that lump of ice the locals call Greenland”

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Social Sniping (Story)
© Damian

‘I’ve worked out a spot you could shoot someone from and get away without being seen,’ he said smugly. I looked at him carefully, weighing up whether he was kidding or not.

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The Tale of Willie Patton
© The Artist Unknown

“I’m going to kill you, Willie.”

Willie looked up from his Lay-Z-Boy, a piece of popcorn still dangling from his lip. Mattie was framed in the kitchen doorway, a butcherin’ knife in her right hand and her left thumb rubbing the back of the blade. She spoke again, softly, as though she were dreaming.

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Writing Again for the First Time
© G-Man Merrick Justice

The rebirth of the human spirit arrived as only blessings know how – unexpectedly and under the cover of tragedy.

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Stolen
© Sastro

Amanda blinked. What had woken her? Her heart pounded as she listened to the sounds of the house. There it was again – a creak from the next room. She quietly crawled out of bed and stumbled through…

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Diamond moments
© GeoGecko

‘Mr Zou, Mr Zou, you must get up. Up now, they come. Look, they come. Stand. Please, please it will not be good for us if you do not stand.’

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The Score
© Dave Legere

A hazy curtain of smoke settled like a shroud, further darkening the already dimly lit room. There was an underlying smell which lurked just as strongly as overpriced cigars-desperation.

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Ricochet
© Summayyah Sadiq-Ojibara

He heard the shriek of the sirens, felt the cuffs..

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Colin
© MickyMc

Colin ran his finger along the edge of the sharp blade. It was such a long time since he’d last had to use it, but he always kept it well oiled, and sharpened it regularly with an oilstone that he had inherited from his grandfather.

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The Seal of the Celestial Engine (Fragments of the Shattered Mirror)
© AbyssalSoul

En-ten-tei, teketen-tin-til, teketen-tin-til… En-ten-tei, teketen-tin-til, teketen-tin-til…

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