The playwright Martin Simon is sitting outside an Indian restaurant with a laptop and beer when James, the director, walks up. Martin continues typing — he’s on a roll, finally making sense of the scene he’s been struggling with all… Continue Reading
Lisa drummed calm fingers on the soccer ball, blue eyes narrowed as she followed the players on the field. The orange team was in control now. Movement shifted to the left. Lisa tensed her legs, ready to run. The white… Continue Reading
Linda walked alone to meet Ronnie at the lot. With each footstep, her nipples rubbed against the shirt her mom had ironed. It hurt and embarrassed her, but made her feel worldly and older than fifteen. Gone were the days… Continue Reading
Harry’s hair had been in the process of falling out for years. He had tried every over-the-counter remedy and prescription available with no success. Over the years, his receding hairline had become a widow’s peak, then male pattern baldness. For… Continue Reading
I’m waiting to see a doctor when I lose my mind. Too little too late, you might say. I’m sitting on the leather sofa in his waiting room, listening to the ticking of the clocks on the wall. Three clocks,… Continue Reading
Kevin’s fist flattened my nose against my face, the cartilage sprawling across my cheekbones, blood surging over my mouth and lips, my eyes filling with water. Bells went off inside my brain. The pain was like discordant music played on… Continue Reading
The bombardments had been relentless. Night after bloody night stuck down a hole in the ground, pissing into the rancid mud. It was a world filled with excrement, guts and putrefaction. Convulsive blasts on gun positions shattered valour. Private Martin… Continue Reading
He looked across the breakfast table, knowing that soon he’d have to choose his words carefully. It was the same every year. First the flags popped out along their quiet suburban street. Then the television broadcasts of news, parades, observances… Continue Reading
Everyone has a secret fear, and Rutherford’s is this: for the minute it matters most, he won’t be looking. Rutherford has a government job. He works on the 19th floor of Building 209. He’s in a special projects division of… Continue Reading
“You really don’t believe in any of it?” Michael asked. “In any of what?” “In signs. Superstitions.” Anna thought of the robin that flew through the open window yesterday as they were eating breakfast and the three gulls that flew… Continue Reading