A California Magazine with Local Focus and Global Appeal:
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Gail Farrelly

by Gail Farrelly


The sign on the door of a pub in County Cavan reads “A Thousand Welcomes,” but a bull who stopped there for a pint after a long day of grazing claims it’s false advertising.

{ 7 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


In her 28 years of life, Nancy MacLeod had never met a rule she didn’t obey. Not that she agreed with every one of them. Far from it. But a civilized society had to have rules, she reasoned, and everyone in that society should obey them. No exceptions.

{ 12 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


I’m baaaaaaaaack. Not much to brag about though.
Here I am lying on the train tracks in a dark, dreary NYC subway tunnel under Grand Central Station. Just hit by a speeding train, my body is bloody and battered. Ouch!

{ 5 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.
That was more than two years ago. They haven’t been seen since.
Okay, okay, strictly speaking, the twins didn’t go to “fetch a pail of water.” It didn’t happen exactly like the nursery rhyme.

{ 7 comments }

by Gail Farelly



He’s the worst, the absolute worst. I’ve always hated bullies, and he’s no exception. His name is Bob; to me, he’s Bully Bob. He’s in a bad mood tonight. So what’s new? When he’s in a bad mood, that’s bad news for me. I have to pay the price. He manhandles me, as he sees fit and really pushes my buttons. Hard. Much too hard. I’m amazed that all my parts are still in working order. I only wish that his weren’t.

{ 9 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


Old MacDonald had a farm.
Young MacDonald didn’t.
That was a problem, you see, because Tim MacDonald (aged 31) thought it was about time–well, more than time really–that his grandpa Michael (aged 78) park his old tractor for good and turn over the farm lock, stock, and barrel to his grandson, his only living relative.

{ 10 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


We’re not talking human snakes. There are sure to be some of them in the parade too, but we’re talking about snakes of the reptile variety, and they will not only be in the parade, but they’ll be honored guests.

{ 6 comments }

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?

IN THE December 30 ISSUE

FROM THE 2015 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Gail Farrelly


“Don’t ask!” I scream at the radio when that song is played for about the tenth time today.
It’s about 8 p.m. New Year’s Eve and I’m up to my elbows in dirty water, fixing the industrial sink at Carl’s Car Repair Shop. I give the radio a dirty look.

{ 4 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


Yesterday was the best Thanksgiving Day ever. But it didn’t start out that way.
In the morning I figured I’d have nothing to be thankful for. Not when my mom announced at breakfast that she was appointing me “MAN in charge” of the kids’ room for Thanksgiving dinner. Uh-oh. I didn’t like the sound of that, not at all. “If I’m a man, why are you sticking me in the kids’ room?” I asked. “I’m twelve years old, almost a teenager. Why should I be stuck with a bunch of little kids?”

{ 6 comments }

by Gail Farrelly


Sally and Tom Clarkson thought they were born to the manor. The problem was – they weren’t. In fact, they were poor as church mice, always living over their heads, always in debt. Now that they were in their forties and there had been no change for the better in their financial condition, they decided to do something about it.

{ 8 comments }

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