Oscar is watching clothes in the washing machine’s round window. The rumble is a daily background white noise. He’s almost as transfixed by its turning as Tilly is by cartoons on the telly. Sometimes, I stare with him. Mostly, I… Continue Reading
Others decide things for me, because whatever I decide turns out wrong. It’s all about knowing limits, and I can’t stop at the edges. I associate mainly with other sullied, stigmatized transgressors. I spent two years at the Forensic Psychiatric… Continue Reading
When The Eldest began to pass away, the younger ones sought to take the last light of The Universe which he guarded closely. The Man, The Woman, The Girl and The Boy set off through the darkness, towards the pinprick… Continue Reading
Jessica Bernard heard the story of John Reynolds on an old podcast while taking the metro home from work. Her job, she admitted to herself, had become tedious. She sent mass emails to raise alarm about the state of the… Continue Reading
My spaceship lands in Australia and I come out with a big gun, to shoot lions. Mommy won’t let me have a gun. Mommy asked me where I wanted to go on vacation. I said somewhere where there’s no relatives.… Continue Reading
“If you can guess what I have in my pocket, you can have it.” I looked into the faded, cornflower blue eyes of my grandfather, as he sat across the table from me. Today they seemed remarkably clear as if… Continue Reading
Samantha etched the white oak onto her hand and arm: her wrist and forearm the trunk, her fingers the branches, fingertips the leaves, and on her palm the date and our initials. She wrote our first kiss inside her upper… Continue Reading
“Loofer, look what I found!” Eva called to her brother. “Is it another leaf?” Luther groaned. “Her name is Mabel!” “Terrific,” Luther breathed. “Now don’t put this one in your p…” Eva stuffed the leaf in her sweatshirt pocket. “Great.… Continue Reading
Molly wishes her alive again and jumps as the door slides open. “Hi, there,” her mother says. “Knock next time!” Molly shouts. “You taught me that.” “Yes.” Her mother’s tone is apologetic, looking down at her bare feet. “You forgot.”… Continue Reading
I’m not sure how long Henry has been using my peppermint foot butter as a deodorant. I can’t blame him; the packaging is almost identical to his stick. I mentioned it to him and he shrugged and rubbed it under… Continue Reading