Tag: story

Well hello my little premium quality hash browns, how are you this fine weekend? You may have noticed a certain…alteration with my appearance. Don’t be alarmed my pretties – certain seismic electrical currents have a way of altering the time continuum in my quaint little town. Like the larvae that entombs itself within a carapace,

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FICTION: 13 Heros by R.D. Girvan

What he doesn’t want is to get caught. Last Halloween he had almost been caught – that had been no fun, no fun at all. It was supposed to be “trick or treat,” not “trick, treat and trial.” He tapped powder into the last of the tubes and added it to the bouquet of pixie

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FICTION: Stunt by G F Copps

She stood staring across the car park. The thing was fifteen feet high and at least forty feet wide, an assemblage of random, bulging objects. It loomed. It wobbled like a blancmange. She could make no sense of it. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Hot air,’ a voice replied. The PM turned to see a

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FICTION: Busman’s Holiday by Ian M Macdonald

When he first fucked her it hurt worse than when her mother had pushed her down the stairs that one time when she was four-years-old and she broke her arm in two places. Those ragged wooden stairs which had the nail heads poking out and were not really compatible with children at the best of

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FICTION: An Awkward Heart by Nick Norton

The snow has not yet dissipated. The grey drifting rain is rounding and smoothing the whiteness. Where there is colour, she sees, it is under the clustered pine trees and around the urgent green armour of holly bushes. He said it will not rain all day and shrugged himself deeper into the waterproof. They smiled.

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FICTION: Under Your Gaze by Emily Harrison

He’d been erasing me from the moment he saw me. Not that I knew it yet. Naked, perched on an uneven wooden stool. Ready and willing for the class. I’d been a life drawing model for less than a year. It made me uncomfortable, squeamish under the lights, self-conscious to be gazed upon by eyes

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NON-FICTION: Consumption by David Lohrey

I became a consumer in 1967. Like those women appearing with alarming frequency on the cover of the National Enquirer who tell of having been penetrated by aliens with laser probes and sucked dry whilst hurtling through outer space at the speed of light, I remember the exact time of my induction into the consumer

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FICTION: Horowitz by J. Ray Paradiso

Names His name was Horowitz. Romeo Juliet Horowitz. Cuz his parents, Moe and Trudy, he swore, were into Shakespeare. And labored for a girl. But lost. Choosing his middle name. Tragically-romantic. And he bOasted he came from rOyalty. Like cOunts and cOuntesses. In the old country. Before Lenin’s Revolution, and Frida Kahlo jumped Leon Trotsky.

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FICTION: The Long Walk by Michael Pogson

I need to relieve myself. Yet I cannot let myself go. Not yet. Let us not concern ourselves too much with the details of how I find myself in this uncomfortable predicament. I am quite sure I am not the first to have made such a careless miscalculation, blindly striding into a desperation so piercing

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FICTION: Chocolate Lily by Lauren Andrews

In the morning I have to force my fists open. We all do. Overnight our hands coil into painfully contorted claws that must be pried open finger by finger. Each and every morning is the same routine. Following a short rest, we rise again to begin the drudgery of another day. When the movement and

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