Pick of the day
The Cat Krampus Campus (and Moment who couldn't resist not doing nothing)
Posted by Jane Hyphen on Fri, 02 Jan 2026
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Story of the week
The Other Side of the Attic Window II
Posted by hudsonmoon on Thu, 01 Jan 2026
The twins stopped by with a question.“How’d you become a ghost?”
“It was my turn,” I said.
Halloween being over, I thought I’d have more me time. But once you unleash a new thing to a child, it becomes theirs. Until they tire of it. Or it moves. But moving is not an option I’ve been given.Read more
Poem of the week
Newport
Posted by markashley on Tue, 30 Dec 2025
dull drab drenched
slick slate cobble
beneath church tower shadow
with dark green fringe
and little red berries
poisoned podules in the rain.
muddy clouds collide
with silver sunlight shafts
and the rain takes hold.
Features
Story and Poem of the Week, with Inspiration Point
Story and Poem of the Week, with Inspiration Point, posted by di_hard
Read moreStory and Poem of the Month
With grateful thanks to Turlough, here are the ABCTales Picks of the Month for November:
ABC Tales Story and Poem of the Month for November 2025
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The Payout Game by ABCTales Writer Robert Craven, Available to Preorder Now!
A dead bookmaker. A rushed verdict.
Inspector Crowe isn’t buying it.
Xion Island Zero by Katherine Black - Out Now!
I'm very pleased to announce that Katherine Black (our very own Sooz Simpson) has just published Xion Island Zero, the sixth in her Inspector Nash series.
Here's a review by celticman and a link to buy:
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Want to join ABCTales?
We've had to suspend the automatic joining facility for a while so if you would like to join us please email
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Posting From Your Android Phone - Fixed!
Some of you have been having issues with posting your work using an android phone. Ewan and John our techie have been working really hard to fix this.
Read moreBee's Journey
Picks of the Month
Afterwards
Posted by Makis on Mon, 03 Nov 2025
We wind the clocks of our lives
without ever once knowing the time,
ignoring our ever slowing pulse
with little regard for what is to come.
But what of afterwards?
What remains of us when we slip from view
and hide our shadows from the sun?
Do we watch from the nothingness,
our hands trembling from the forging of memories,
smiling at how it was?