Experimental Short Fiction - Steve Coel. Documenting through a fictional mirror, responses to the world around us... these experiments are nearly always intuitive and spontaneous. I will continue to publish On - Line. Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication (August 2026)
Here -
Where...tacky metal emblems cling to half shredded sprayed walls of distant commerce..
Where...fractured gang lines decide night time movement..
Where...waistcoat watches lie trapped in muddied brickwork..
Where...shallow drunk opinion dominates afternoon decision making..
Where...beauty is hooded..
is the place language comes to die.
Here -
Where...booted thunder clatters into ticketed smoky backroom..
Where...padlocks protect broken fields from broken people..
Where...blank looks remain stubborn with old age..
Where...each step is guided by habit..
Where...angry shadows are nailed on to walled in wasteland..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Here -
Where...plastic fairground jewellery lies chewed up..
Where...kerbstone wheels idle dawdle in tune with open door security camera..
Where...words spoken in jest between strangers are echoed as threat to local trade..
Where...shuttered motor industry is impatient and bolted into the fabric of labour..
Where...failure becomes habit..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Recent MicroFlashFictions
Steve Coel...
Cruel Lips
Careless Shoes - Compilation ( 2023 )
False Promise
Sad Walls
Invisible Feet
Nobody's Busy Fool
Thin Whistle at Dusk
Painted Brick
Big Vision
Rattled Stride
Half Stolen Buildings
Laughter
House
Tall Ships
Footfall in Albany
The Right Shadows - Compilation ( 2022 )
Daytime Hideaways
The Right Shadow
The Mercy Path
The Proposal
Stretched Bone #1 - #10 - Compilation ( 2022 )
Wild Places
Rains on Me
Up at the Knock
Smells of Time
Small Pockets
The Wet Shift
Paper Towns
Dead Air into Warm Harp
Bitter Fingers
Reading Glass
Jealous Feet
Broken Zips
Burnt Timber
Nice Breakfast
In the Blood
Apples and Pears
Broken Doorways
MicroFlashFiction
c.Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Here -
Where...bitter tunes are formed around rough gateway..
Where...steep hill shop fronts bend with debt..
Where...gloved hands hide in plastic bag lined overcoat..
Where...scarred beauty is magnified by haunted woolen cover..
Where...cruel lips swear into hidden micro market stall..
is the place language comes to die.
