Tag: writer

Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) by Oliver Bussell

Open with: two men crushed to death in a campervan.  Well ok, two men, potentially crushed to death in a campervan. Fate unconfirmed.  And besides, it’s more like a caravan really, if we’re being pernickety. Which we are. So two men potentially crushed to death in a caravan.  But perhaps we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves. Let’s back

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Fifty Cent Tips by Edward Plantos

Gil’d kill for some coffee right now. Grains of sleep linger in his lashes. That trail of gross leaves is still there. He stares. Fuck fresh air, he has just decided. Not fresh air as a thing. Not fuck photosynthesis. Not fuck that. Fuck no. But as a judgment. A kind of putdown. That greener

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Gauloises Blue by Ruth Lacey 

I. Even now, Zoë can remember all the prices in the Melbourne milk bar that her parents owned. Paddle Pops were seven cents. Sunny Boys were three. Violet Crumbles and Smith’s Crinkle Cut chips both sold for five, the same price as the bus fare to her high school. In those days, two dollars a

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Quiet Reading by Bradford Clark

Grenth Enterprise Academy Mr. Jackson’s Classroom (2nd floor) Tutor Time—14:45-15:05 Tuesday: Quiet Reading -a thin girl, some would call her pale, but people don’t tend to say that about students so well-endowed in PE even if it’s true. It’s not just that is the thing. Endowed, well, in just about every scholastic or athletic endeavour

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Fiction Addict by Betty Moffett

Life was good:  Domestic arrangement pleasant; kids and grandkids (for the moment) unworrisome; sky bright blue, wind zero.  All of which was making her tense and restless.  She knew the problem: She was addicted to fiction.  She had been a compulsive reader from an early age, when she’d learned that if Nancy Drew and her

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Exeat by Catherine Wilkinson

Ruminating vows and resolutions, Ludo packs his rucksack. He is going to lie. Even to himself. Whether the latter is possible, and not delusional, is, he decides, a fascinating philosophical question, and in his case the answer is, or will be, ‘yes’. But until the initiation of this trip, he had seemed genetically incapable of

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The Letter “H” by John Sheirer

Michael felt like a cliché as he sat alone at the counter of a 24-hour diner. The time of night could best be described with the military designation, “oh-dark.” The only other people in the place were a waitress and two late-middle-aged women huddled close together in a corner booth. Michael didn’t usually drink coffee

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I’m Ushered Out With the Last of Them by Ali Roberts

I’m ushered out with the last of them, the stragglers at the FreshNet Local. There’s me, two men in long, tailored jackets carrying cardboard caddies full of corked bottles, and a tall, burly woman with a dog food sack under each arm. The blokes look like the sort who made fun of my car at

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We are all Artists by James Woolf

1. Everyday life Evan Millhauser stood watching as they stepped out of the carriage, imagining they were actors auditioning for the part of ‘Passenger getting off a train’. A woman reading an urgent message on her phone. Two students chatting about a lecture as they stepped onto the platform. A woman, tense, consumed by her

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I’m a Low Income Writer… by Gabino Iglesias

It appears that President Donald Trump wants white suburbia to vote for him, and he’s pushing out low-income housing in order to get that vote. “I am happy to inform all of the people living their Suburban Lifestyle Dream that you will no longer be bothered or financially hurt by having low income housing built

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