The Scum Gentry Prose Desk

Notes of a Professional Voyeur I

Notes of a Professional Voyeur I

Serial Fiction
Benny Profane
I can see it all from up here...Up here in this insulated cavern of heat and noise. Up here in this den of obscurity; up here in my hovelled alcove hidden away from the rest of the world; where my only companions are the creeping mice and the scuttling cockroaches.Here I have my own private observatory; my own sheltered window looking out onto that partially-lighted room of strangers; onto that microcosm of the world. It is my keyhole through which to spy, my blind through which to peek ...
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At Vacuum’s Edge

At Vacuum’s Edge

Novella Excerpt
Michael Mc Aloran
...it we lung/ worming flesh of abortive symphonic/ bone break of body mount purity of some obscene devour a fleshed veranda silence breakage ever long/ untold reflect lock shadow hold breakage of bone eclipse explicit drive non-else given never having in or taken away unto origin non-said/ breathes yes desire closed wound an orifice dead centre solace break given to expire collapse in laughter’s chamber/ breakage stun weight echo echoing from out of solace climb not a chance for living breath collide non-step retrace a marrow’s overture/ shadowings across deserted concrete nothing left to give/ it was/ some night’s detrace from out of stitch shattered glass deserted buildings some ever-night sky’s blood pelt absence ...
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Graffiti

Graffiti

Flash Fiction
Emmaleene Leahy
There’s a new security guard on tonight. I might get in. I slam my fist against the glass. “Little pig, little pig, let me in.” He scratches at his short beard and takes a few steps towards me, then turns and stares at the phone on his desk. He scratches his head and writes something down in the logbook. They mustn’t have told him about me. He’s not going to let me in. I know. Shiny new buildings stand in a line like moored ships, their reflections ripple along the river at their feet. They are ghost citizens waiting for death. I pull up my hood and move away from the circle of light that emanates ...
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The Substitute

The Substitute

Short Fiction
Garreth Keating
On a dripping dirty day Miss Cummins was fighting for control of the bodies and souls of 1b and wondering if these bodies and souls were worth the fight. They were a pack of shitheads if the truth be told and not one of them would give her the time of day, neither in class nor outside in the real world. “Fuck off, you Nazi bitch,” the boy shouted. “I won’t fuck off for no commie,” the school girl screamed. “We’ll gas ya; We’ll gas you all.” ...
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Neutral Tones

Neutral Tones

Short Story
Dragoon Babic
It was a familiar story.We were locked in arms and giddily stumbling towards our inevitable fate. The cobbled streets over which we fumbled clopped out the beat of our clumsy march. On we walked; illuminated by the glare of the neon street-lamps that glowed above us and, every now and then, washed over by the roaming headlights of the black taxi cabs that rolled on by.Across the road there was another couple walking in the opposite direction. Just like us they were clumsily finding their way home after another night of revelry; meandering along the footpath in alcohol-induced delirium.My mind, too, was beginning to wander. On seeing this couple I became considerably warmed by the notion ...
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Teeny Tiny Bastards

Teeny Tiny Bastards

Short Story
David Duff
There’s been little men dancing on me neighbour’s roof. Saw them with me own eyes so I did. Dozens of the bastards! No bigger than me mickey. The wife says I’m mad, but I know I saw them. ‘Twas no “trick of the light”, as she called it. I saw them little fuckers up there clapping, clopping, ducking; tapping, jumping, spinning; fucking hopping.Call me mad, will she?Rain and snot dripping, tickling, falling off the end of me nose. How can that hole contain all the things he was? Fingers stiff and skin pained, the air bitter. He cycled 40km each way to the sugar mill, along God only knows which roads, over hills that were almost ...
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Rise and Fall

Rise and Fall

Short Story
Andrew Fitzpatrick
Let’s just walk through it, shall we...? Down all the years I’d known him, I’d never once seen him laugh heartily as though he was truly enjoying himself. It wasn’t something you would notice straight off, obviously, but having been in his company over the course of a few days or a number of weeks, this behavioural curiosity became a glaring characteristic. It’s strange looking back on it now, considering all that’s happened, but what I remember most from those days when we would all be together, in a pub or on holidays or whatever, is the laughter that would constantly surround us as we talked and joked from dawn till dusk. But I suppose we ...
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And the Pain Oscillates

And the Pain Oscillates

Flash Fiction
Ephraim Gast
It all started in fascia and now almost everything is gone.Nurse, I’m now my own memoir Tsar and I need to tell you quick. Before I’m eaten and scarred and dead I need to dictate something to someone, and you’re here to care for me, so please provide me with some undeserved mercy and remember everything I say because of what’s on and in my face and flesh.Alright: so I never sanctioned those Junkers’ nasty peasantry-slavery mills. That’s not something I would ever condone, because I’m too proud to have those types on my property. Anyway, no amount of dog-whistling would or could erase the fact ...
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