Just months ago after receiving the news, my mother held me in her arms and softly sang, “I Don’t Want to Cry Anymore.” Now, her voice chokes with pain and all the tears in the world are ours. “Remember, sanctuary… Continue Reading
I hate Mr. Omniscient. It’s 8:30 AM and Mr. Omniscient (his name is really Jason) begins yet another absurd story. “I worked in Germany for two years. The food there has no preservatives so you can eat and drink as… Continue Reading
My white knuckles grip the safety bar. Heights, speed, lack of control– things I avoid at all costs. I connect the video call, phone shaking. His gaunt, beautiful face calms my nerves. “I knew you wouldn’t deny a dying man… Continue Reading
Driving is something I learnt when I was 15 to make a living soon after Baba fell from the coconut tree faster than the coconut that landed on his head. My father was trying to fetch it for the guests.… Continue Reading
Down the one hundred twenty-one stone steps, Darcy dashes. She doesn’t care if she falls and busts her head wide open, not after what that boy said, loud enough for the whole class to hear, him the stupidest idiot in… Continue Reading
Under a cloudless, moonless November sky, a little white Vauxhall bounced down the road, its nervous, inexpert driver grinding gears. Eamon, a round-shouldered giant who looked better suited to the University than the Provisional IRA, squashed into the backseat, stared… Continue Reading
“Christmas wishes, Christmas wishes!” It was the cutest elf Amy had ever seen. So lifelike—the way those pointy ears twitched and the face crinkled like real skin as its owner smiled up at her. “I’d love a Christmas wish,” said… Continue Reading
Marky was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Now wait a minute. There is plenty of doubt. That is just not true. Also, bald-faced plagiarism. Mark Ganner scolded himself for such maudlin and self-centered musings.… Continue Reading
“Bubble double, spoil and rubble.” “Have you got that right, dear?” Bjarnhilda raised her long and warty nose out of the pot she was stirring, just missing its rim. “Of course, I do.” She continued, “Fire burn and caldron bubble.”… Continue Reading
Just a dash of cinnamon. Maeve crouched over the one-pot stove in the kitchen of her ship. Open flames were forbidden in space, so roasting anything over a fire was out of the question. Cider warmed on a hot plate?… Continue Reading