Showing posts with tag: war

Gaming Is Storytelling

In a response to Alan Gillespie's recent article for Litro on the impact of video games on teenagers' creative writing, gamer and writer Jordan Erica Webber argues that we should stop seeing the two forms as mutually exclusive. She believes that storytelling has an important part to play in many video games, and that playing video games can enhance rather than limit the creative spirit. Read more →

Dave Early – The Cold Front

Life seemed so much simpler to Gavrilovich Gikalov during his youth. The Soviet regime was liberating the third world against the tyrannical US and her oppressive allies, as the radio broadcast announced on the hour. And every man in Moscow knew his place. Nobody stood out. Short men, tall men, thin men, thinner men, men with one arm, men with two … there was no greed, no envy, no snobbery or class distinction among those hardworking men of the street.

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The Depressing Command by Feyisayo Anjorin

A major in a military regime in Sierra Leone faces a moral dilemma
when the daughter of his beloved teacher commits treason.

Read by Terence Anderson:
[audio:terenceanderson-thedepressingcommand.mp3|titles=The Depressing Command|artists=Feyisayo Anjorin]

Feyisayo Ajorin

Feyisayo Anjorin was born in Akure, Nigeria in 1983. He studied at Damelin College, Bramley, Johannesburg; The University of Ibadan, Nigeria; and the South African School of Motion Picture Medium and Live Performance, Auckland Park, Johannesburg. 

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Liza Costello – In Kalamazoo

When Sofia and her granddad passed through the archway and into the square, everything was still under one big shadow. Her hand felt hot inside her granddad’s and he was pulling it along like he didn’t care if the rest of her came with it. She had to skip sometimes, to keep up with him. They had walked like this all the way from the street where they lived, Sofia in a house with her mother and father, her granddad in his apartment.

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Ruth Brandt – Hassan’s Zoo

For the first six days Hassan couldn’t leave the house he shared with his mother, father and two younger sisters, Haja and Farrah. As explosions juddered the floor and the incessant high-pitched shrieks of missiles passed overhead, he worried that they would all die, suffocated by brick dust created from the walls that now protected them, their limbs crushed by chunks of rubble.

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Nadia Stevenson – A War Monologue

Because you expect me to speak about it, too, I suppose. Because if I have the medal, then there must be the stories to tell too, right? The stories; come on then, which one is it you’re hoping to hear? The ones packed with tension, the kind you like, where you’re ooching forward in your seat, wondering if they die or not in the end?

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When the Other Gods Read Self-Help Books…

Louie Stowell 2011

Louie Stowell has been drawing cartoons and other illustrations for Litro for a year or so. Her drawings have appeared in other off and online magazines and an annual charity art exhibition called ArtSHO. She also writes children’s books for Usborne and recently co-wrote a book called the Write Your Own Story Book, published at the start of June.

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Richard W. Strachan – The Wild Geese

Lavishly camouflaged and armed with broken branches and sticks, customised until they resembled the latest in 1970s mercenary hardware, and with Army/Navy store cast-off berets and cap badges and a canteen each slung around their waists, the two boys knelt and appraised the ridge on the other side of the field with a grim, professional eye. Vantage points for snipers abounded.

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Lennart Lundh – Among the Ruins

One less friend to call on. I turned the shovel and tamped the earth over the grave.

‘Was it someone that I knew?’ Stearns had come up behind me with his usual silence. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being startled.

‘You never met, far as I know.’

‘Odd. I thought I’d met everyone here.’

‘Fitzgerald wasn’t one of the regulars.

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Kusay Hussein with Sue Reid Sexton – The Iron Gates of Freedom

I don’t know how long I was awake in the night. I was lying on my bed wrapped in the darkness which was all over the country since the outbreak of war forty days before. I was listening to the silence as a beautiful song. I kept listening and listening,  untethering my thoughts and fantasies to fly with the wings of imagination as far as they could and leave their jail forever.

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