Leticia Mooney

“Ultimatum” by Leticia Mooney

Submitted to Contest #186

'It must be satisfying.''Hm?''Knowing that your work creates... this kind of thing you can see out the window down there. What do you newspapermen call it? ‘Mobilisation,’ isn’t it? Almost like you are building an army. It’s quite effective, you’d agree.''Quite.''From your perspective, anyway.''I don’t quite understand what you’re driving at, mate.''Well. They can gather and walk and chant and make a mess all they like. It isn’t going to change anything. All it is doing is selling papers.''But that doesn’t make sense. If this... mess... is a...

12 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“In Art We Trust” by Leticia Mooney

In Art We TrustI: WarningI felt this north-star impulseFrom the very first day of life,Absorbing the world's experiencesIn hand my pen - a knife!Given a gift that sang Of sweetness, life at easeI accepted praise with nonchalance'til Adulthood took me.Still I drew and sewed and wroteWith love and careless joy;And then something deep inside of me This gift it did destroy.A man that I had thought I lovedLearned all my special skillsAnd when he then took them on,Each was a little kill.Deaths they were, every one,But I couldn't see it t...

0 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Of Brandy Bottles and Garden Tools” by Leticia Mooney

Submitted to Contest #149

Of Brandy Bottles and Garden ToolsHe was the best bass player in town. The best bass player, but the nicest guy. And a stage personality that put the show-offs of 80s hair metal to shame.After a series of disasters with his existing bassist, from having to play as a three-piece thanks to angry tantrums, bar chicks who were threatened, chairs thrown, Shannon was left without a bass player. Danger was good, but it was hard to tell how much of the bass he played and how much of it was just fiddling. Play a bit, fiddle with knobs. Play a bit, fi...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Secret Women's Business” by Leticia Mooney

Submitted to Contest #146

'Sister, how long have you known?' My devastated whispers echoed through the dark cavern. It responded with dripped echoes. I imagined that the faint breeze kissing my face was a collective of kisses from all women past and future. A gentle honouring, a please forgive us. 'Did you know what you were doing? That you were complicit in this destruction?' I sat heavily, the rock's damp seeping into my pants, making me cold from the bottom up. I no longer cared. I want4ed to know why so much was hidden. How much of our lives is shooshed up,...

14 likes 4 comments 4

Read story

“Gethsemane” by Leticia Mooney

Submitted to Contest #142

Dust motes danced in the light that fell from a window under the ceiling. The library wasn't busy. It was a forgotten little place, unlike the city library. The city library wasn't really a library any more. It was more of a computer hub, a place for bored schoolkids to go and play computer games or stare at screens instead. This wasn't like that. This was an old-school library: Filled with volumes of all kinds. It had a musty smell of paper. Librarians wafted through like monks. The atmosphere was hushed. Nobody ate at their desks while p...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story