REPAIRS • Ryan Standley
As I struggled to repair my son’s bicycle, I thought of my dad. Years ago, he built me an entire bike from parts, assembling each piece while drinking a beer or two in the garage. One night, I brought out… Continue Reading
THE TEAPOT • Fiona M Jones
There it was, in the parish newsletter, under Furniture for Sale: “20 inch cream-colour bathroom cabinet, rose-shape handles.” With any luck, a replica of the one Charlene had broken last week. She had searched online, flagged up a couple of… Continue Reading
THE GRAPEFRUIT • Joe Thristino
On the day in question, I’m perusing the grapefruits at my supermarket. I make sure I pick only a grapefruit clearly stickered “Star Ruby.” Meaning it’s not a pink grapefruit. Meaning it’s not an apricot. Meaning it’s not a bran… Continue Reading
A BLAST FROM THE PAST • by Martin Reid Sanchez
My friend Julio wears many faces. He can be elusive, and sometimes disappears for months at a time. But I always find him in the end. We first met while working at a slowly failing startup. I was drawn to… Continue Reading
A GREAT ESCAPE • by Phebe Jewell
Planning his next escape from Springbrook Retirement Home, George wakes early, just as the first-shift staff start their rounds, so it isn’t surprising he is the only resident to observe Fred leave, zipped into a body bag, covered with a… Continue Reading
SHADOW PEOPLE IN THE AMBULANCE • by Nilay Kumar Sarker
It started with a whisper in the rear-view mirror. Not the kind you hear, exactly — more the kind that curls under your skin and waits. Dean adjusted the mirror. Empty backseat. Just trees blurring past. Just the heat. He… Continue Reading
IN THE CAR • by Brian Doak
What happens. I drive to the store. Read in a coffeeshop. Pretend to work. The drama having subsided, the sad affair, the hero dies, a little heroically, the other left alone. How to end it. Had a small success. Child… Continue Reading
THE IRA GUNMAN • by Derek McMillan
I was enjoying a little drink in the Dog and Blanket in Nether Sodbury. “Hey, Scruples, I want a word with you.” I recognised John Donaldson. He frequented the Dog and Blanket and after a skinful, he would entertain them… Continue Reading
OEIL-DE-BOEUF • by Jeff Radwell
Two dark-haired girls with makeup to match, and look, they’ve found something. An oeil-de-boeuf at the gable admitted a circle of afternoon light that fell on nothing and illuminated even less, catching only the turn of dust motes. Mary pressed… Continue Reading
HAPPINESS IS • by David Schweidel
When a client I’ll call Fred first came to see me, he complained of feeling ugly, unimportant, and vastly underappreciated. He said that he’d once been a grand personage — exalted, even — but a dreadful event had transformed him… Continue Reading