Stephen Wade                

Irish Writer

 

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The Call of the Sea


The Call of the Sea by Steve Wade

The Call of the Sea was chosen for the Irish Issue of 'Literary Orphans' 

 

 

 

http://www.literaryorphans.org/playdb/call-sea-steve-wade/

 

The Christmas Market


"For eleven months of the year the three generations existed in harmony beneath the same roof. That tragedy had befallen the family seven years ago no lodger or patron in the establishment would ever suspect or admit."

 

http://shortstorysunday.com/tag/steve-wade/ 

     

The Last Bus


Recording of Steve reading his short story, 'The Last Bus'. The recording was made for All Points west in conjunction with Wordlegs  

 

http://bit.ly/H55AbW

 

 

Mac Tire, the Son of the Countryside


"Too many moons had awoken and given way to the Great Fire in the Sky since Mac Tire, the last wolf in Ireland, had allowed his hunger for a mate to lead him to the man-curís trap."

 

http://greysparrowpress.sharepoint.com/Pages/

Winter2013FlashWade.aspx

 

Steve - A Writer in the Spotlight


 

Stephen Wade or Steve Wade Photo

Steve was Bluethumbnail's 'Writer in the Spotlight' in the early part of 2011.  Check out Steve's profile on Bluethumbnail at the link below.

 

 

http://www.bluethumbnail.com/Author/steve-wade.html

 

 

 Lequoia and the Mai-coh


 

Fjords Literary journal features a recording of Steve's own voice reading his story 'Lequoia and the Mai-coh,' which centres around the

symbiotic relationship between a golden eagle and a wolf.

http://mediumless.net/fjords/player.shtml

 The Birthday


 

Another birthday. My thirty-seventh. Somehow, there seemed great significance attached to my being thirty-seven. There were famous figures in history who didnít quite kick-off their careers till they were thirty-seven. George Barnard Shaw was one of them; that I knew.  And there were others too, but I couldnít think of any. Iíd do a Google on them later.

 

http://thewriteroom.wordpress.com/2009/03/22/

 

 

 High Flyer


 

MOST of all Isabel noticed his hands.  They were good hands, dark-skinned, kind hands, but capable, too. It took huge effort during the 20-minute journey home not to glance directly at his face again. When the sound of the engine shifted, as the train roared through the short tunnels, she watched his window reflection watching hers.

 

http://www.tribune.ie/article/2008/jun/01/high-flyer/?q=

 On the Seventh Day


 

While Ellie scraped the razor down his cheekbone to his jaw, he tried to synchronise his breathing with hers. Her breath caressed his face. The nerve twitching at the side of his head pulled his reluctant eyes towards his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

 

http://www.bluethumbnail.com

 

The Panicked Rat


 

Christmas Eve: cold and sparkling. Happy faces. Childrenís voices, like chirping birds, twittering about Santa. And the shoppers smiling and simpering their apologies for getting in each otherís way.

 

http://www.bluethumbnail.com

 

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