violence Archives - Spillwords

A Wondeful Childhood, a short story by Frank Geiger at Spillwords.com

A Wonderful Childhood

Frank GeigerOctober 10, 2019

A Wonderful Childhood written by: Frank Geiger Her name was Donna Weaver. His name was Trevor Bower. They first met at the Wawa where he worked, usual...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature42 min read

Contemporary Casual Conversation

Ronald Allen BellOctober 4, 2019

Contemporary Casual Conversation written by: Ronald Allen Bell @rhymescribe Come into my garden, baby. Have a sip and sit with me. Tell me all th...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Dummy

Matthew Roy DaveySeptember 4, 2019

Dummy written by: Matthew Roy Davey They came up behind us on the path and yelled to get out of the way. Rick and I were quick enough but Ellio...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

What To Wear

Mia WrightJuly 29, 2019

What To Wear written by: Mia Wright @19poems in my woman body, i wear strangeness like a garment. burdenbreasts buckling construction. this corpor...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Birds That Don’t Sing

Daniel BrooksJuly 2, 2019

The Birds That Don't Sing written by: Daniel Brooks I fear incarceration Like the living fear Death I fear the point of No return I fear that not...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Reckoning (River of Pain)

Jose A. TovarJune 3, 2019

The Reckoning (River of Pain) written by: Jose A. Tovar While I slept While I dreamt Deep within my core From within my soul Manifest hatred aros...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Consumed

Stanley W. ShuraMay 8, 2019

Consumed written by: Stanley W. Shura The infinite dark wields its paint brush. It strikes me with mean ungentleness. My legs disappear with each pa...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

A Better Place

David OlatubosunApril 4, 2019

A Better Place written by: David Olatubosun @davidolatubosun A man never rests Except for the Sabbath of toil And peace is no peace When devoid of...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

When The Dead Stirred From The Graves

Dr Santosh BakayaNovember 27, 2018

When The Dead Stirred From The Graves written by: Dr Santosh Bakaya “Look, look, buddy, the ground is still bloody Oh listen, can you smell this st...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

CROWS 5

Stanley WilkinNovember 23, 2018

CROWS 5 written by: Stanley Wilkin @catalhuyuk Dive bombers, black wings spread, satanic angels: Two crows attacked another broken on the long gr...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

I Worry About These Things

hedgehogSeptember 3, 2018

I Worry About These Things written by: hedgehog All over this world you see them Smart suits, tanned skin, briefcase in hand Smiling gently as the...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Sea of Mists

Eliza SegietAugust 28, 2018

Sea of Mists written by: Eliza Segiet translated by: Artur Komoter In the hideout I understood that normality is when you lie when you want, ...

EnglishInternationalPoetryPolish1 min read

How She Lost It

LlakaTshesaneAugust 25, 2018

How She Lost It written by: Llaka Tshesane Red eyes, pink cheeks Red ears, pink nose Race between tears, she’s in a mess She has no happiness Cu...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Oncoming Abyss

SMilesJuly 25, 2018

The Oncoming Abyss written by: SMiles @stephenmiles2 What would our planet say if only she could speak? Observing the inhabitants what sort of c...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...