Tag Archives: Writings

Holes and Constellations

Every so often, we like to brag. You know, just a little bit, but not too much. We don’t want our readers thinking we’ve gone and gotten too big for our britches now, do we? (Actually, what exactly are britches?)

Anyway, we’re capable of blowing more than bubbles from our noses. That’s what we’re trying to say. We’re serious chaps, we are! Well, a chap and a chapette. Ugh, you get the point.

Some of you may remember. Some of you may have forgotten. Some of you may have no idea whatsoever. But, yes, we kinda wrote two books last year, and even contrived to shove them into different, funny places called Amazon, Barnes&Noble, and iBook. And maybe somewhere else. We aren’t sure that we remember all of them.

Since then, the literary world has been set abuzz with a tizzy of excitement. Well, a bunch of readers decided to pay some attention to us. Okay, now guess a riddle, Dear Readers. J.K. Rowling has 20,665 what? E.L. James has 68,027 what? Tati and Tony have… TWENTY-FIVE! What is this? That’s right. REVIEWS.

Okay, that isn’t the total number of reviews we’ve gotten. This is just for one book so far. Both have gotten a fair bit of attention which means that James and Rowling need to beware! We’re nipping at your heels, guys! Do you see our gnashers glinting in the moonlight? But don’t worry. We’ll be gentle.

By the way, all the reviews we’ve received so far are 100% certified honest! We’re as proud of our one star ratings as we are of those reviews with five. No bullshit! We earned every single star, so we’re going to show them off for the world to see! Behold our brazen peacockery!

In the meantime, Dear Readers, please do check out our new dedicated Reviews page, and if you like what you see then why not check out Hole-in-the-Wall, our online shop? Our books are available there, and they’re waiting for literate new owners to claim them. Would you be so good as to give them a home? Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to continue strutting our stuff and blowing funky bubbles from our noses… Pop! Pop! Pop!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Lose to Night

Sisu in the face of certain doom.

There’s no earthly reason why I should be feeling what I feel today. From when my head left its pillow my stomach kicked in. It’s a coil of snakes writhing and golloping me up inside. I can’t concentrate to work. I can’t let go and play. I can only churn times ten. I’m a tight knot waiting to unravel.

The years have seen many friends fall to this monstrosity at the middle of me. Emotionally, I’m just too high maintenance. I go out of my way to cover it up but at some point the façade crumbles. It always does. And then they see me for what I really am. And they get overwhelmed. And eventually they flee.

So now I lock myself away, waiting to unspool. Please, for the love of criminy, just let me unspool. I want to come unutterably and exhaustively undone. Can I rejoin society then? I’m scared of losing the two people I care most about in this world. I need to be safe. Or at least safe enough to handle.

It’s not about aggression. That isn’t why I sit in this room listening to my music. It’s about having something be louder than something else. I need to rumble the snakes out, to shake the bastards loose. To let heavy metal do its thing. Maybe it can save me from myself this time. No, seriously. As preposterous and overblown as that might sound—as metal might sound—just… just save me.

I hear the voices roaring from the speakers. I feel them thundering from beneath the earth, drowning out my insides. And even as I lay buried, my roiling innards will not be silenced. So I scream too, adding my voice to this cognitive and sonorous dissonance. It’s never been about aggression. It’s always been about survival. About letting people know I’m still buried down here. Sleep is so stupid and wasteful. I have to live. I want to live.

I see you, you things inside of me. God, you’re beautiful, but you’re sick. I know what you are. And I know you cannot have me. See? I’m lobbing a Molotov. I’m torching you, motherfuckers. I will not lose to night.

Yeah. Sisu. Sisu in the face of certain doom. That’s what I choose.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Six Word Stories #16

Can’t the damn cat walk itself?

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Six Word Stories #15

Firstly, you must chaperone my pussy.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017

GUEST POST // A Diptych for Pain by Krishna Prasad

Words after words double march
in not just your war
Unwritten poems upon poems pile up
in bleeding hearts
…the squeaking hinges
let love in through the leaves
seize your pen my co- warrior
Press the ink, take a hit
This war soon be over
Heals writing; you are worth more than this

by KRISHNA PRASAD
© All rights reserved 2016