Author Archives: Alan James Keogh

About Alan James Keogh

I am a 24 year old writer who somehow tricked U.C.D. into giving me not only a degree in English and Classical studies, but an Hons Masters in Creative Writing too. Visit my blog where I post short stories twice a week (Monday and Wednesday) and an installment of a serialised novel on Fridays. I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.

Nothing but a Nuisance. Short Story.

Gemma walked through the crowd, weaving her way through, that one always one of the things she hated about the weekends, so many people just milling around. She dodged to the left as the group of old women in front … Continue reading

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Road Trip. Short Story.

Hope everyone had a good weekend. Mine was ok, didn’t get up to a whole lot. I’m mostly back to normal now, woo! Had some really, really bad stomach cramps on Thursday but they’ve died off thankfully. Was a bit … Continue reading

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No short story today. 

Unfortunately I’m not well at the moment so there won’t be a short story today. I’ll be back on Monday with another short story, hope everyone has a good weekend!

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The Edge of the Universe. Short Story.

Jane stared out the window, it really wasn’t that impressive and it was nothing like she imagined. Really, the edge of the universe just looked like any other part of it. It was such a lie! How could there be … Continue reading

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Seeing is Believing. Short Story.

Greg looked at the cigarette on the table, it looked so innocuous. He picked it up and after a few calming breaths, lit it and took a drag. He started coughing almost immediately, he grabbed his glass of water and … Continue reading

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The Flesh. Flash Fiction.

“I feel sick.” “Just focus on walking, keep your head down and don’t look.” Carl stared at the pavement as he walked, Becky was slightly ahead of him, he focused on her red high heels, the steady click clack as … Continue reading

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The Daily Grind. Short Story.

“How many did we get today?” “Eight.” “Only eight?” Frank shrugged, “They’re getting nervous out there, noticing people are going missing. They’re not as trusting as they were. Besides, there’s only so many homeless people in one area.” “Not the … Continue reading

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