Tag: Micro

Bullets In The Face by Cheryl Powell

Guy in a pizza uniform gets on the train. His face is shot full of holes. ‘Do you mind if I sit here,’ he says, voice high, ice-green eyes unblinking. I move my feet. ‘Not at all.’   I know what he is, but good manners cost nothing. He sits down opposite and I count the

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Wilma Trashed My Mother’s House by Jill Bronfman

The hurricane that danced around my mother’s house wore the exasperated expression of a cartoon character. The Halloween party had to be cancelled because the fake cobwebs were soaked, and the roof tiles were all over the lawn. Until the next time, I toast Wilma, as she backs away. Wilma tells us that next time

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