I was eight months sober when I entered the contest. It was a benefit for children or refugees or some poor subsection of humanity which yearned for assistance. They wanted you to make a donation to enter, that was the catch. I gave five dollars. I suspected the more you gave, the better your chances
I miss the clouds. Up there the perspective is all encompassing. Lives make sense. Even the loss of lives is part of a pattern that is more easily discernible from above. I am earthbound now with clipped wings, but I still have certain powers even in this continent of trees that flower red and purple,
To me, Julia, sitting in the armchair, gun held in her right hand, propped up by the armrest looked younger than she had in years. She stared at the couple, who sat on the opposite sofa; daylight squeezing through the closed blinds, casting a beam across their ashen faces. “What’s his name?” Julia asked breaking
“I have a surefire solution,” he said. “And, if she doesn’t like it, she’ll tell me in my dreams.” ****************** Born in the fall, between September 23 and October 22, he lived a cRaZy quilt kinda life, which his Libra zodiac traits tried – that’s tried – to harmonize like its symbol, a level beam
All my customers had the same old chat. It was uncanny. All these people, these hundreds of people who didn’t even know each other, and they all said the same little things to me every day. The most common by far was the one about bills. I’d give somebody their letters, and they’d tell me
Helen Ivory’s fifth collection from Bloodaxe, ‘The Anatomical Venus’ is a stark and possessing exhibition of female abuse throughout history. In these poems we witness women as ‘other’, she or her who is alienated for her body’s ability to birth and bleed, and objectified for her gender aesthetics. We find here the Venus, the doll,
Baron Von Luneberg, flight commander, iron cross recipient and celebrated war hero of the auspicious Luftwaffe finished loading the reconnaissance plane with looted nazi gold bullion. The war still raged towards Berlin, allied occupying forces were now pushing with impunity toward the command centres of the failed Third Reich. Luneberg, a descendent of Germanic aristocracy
An exceptional woman, Lynette managed to convince everyone that “better judgment” was a concept predicated in nonsense. She knew how to have fun. That’s her—over there with the tie-dye shawl, kicking it up at the beach with her typical aplomb. She’d be the first to remove her bra, climb on a stranger’s shoulders “piggy-back,” and
Transforming the mundane into something intriguing, ‘Above the Fat’ is a wonderfully weird collection of short stories which slowly pulls readers in with obscure plots and layered characters. Chadwick has a skill for spotting the strange in something that could be so ordinary, presenting us with odd tales where the characters rarely have a traditionally
“There it is,” William said when Cheryl got home, pushing the gingerbread house toward her across the kitchen counter. “We made it at the Managers’ Meeting.” Cheryl slid off her boots and hung up her jacket. “Wish I had a job like that.” “It’s team building.” “Looks pretty good though.” “You should’ve seen Dan’s,” William
