When Keegan is alone and his insides rumble in turmoil, he remembers the day he swallowed the spark. It charred his tongue with its smoky texture and smoldered down his throat to plunk into the acid of his gut. Delicious.… Continue Reading
It wasn’t as if Zanti hadn’t made a rug before. She threaded her wide-eyed needle with orange wool and stitched the folded selvedge. Usually she would draw out a design on gridded paper before she began, but this time she… Continue Reading
When the Devil noticed me, that’s when the trouble started. I was always a fair guitar player who was just good enough to play at the local pubs on occasion. I had a fire inside me, though. I worked at… Continue Reading
An old boot props open the door of the cafe. In winter the door expands and is the devil to open. In summer it shrinks and rattles in the breeze. The boot, in its way, keeps the peace. It is… Continue Reading
It’s like a jungle in the clouds and there’s this fog — like rain, except it’s not raining. Everything is wet and tangled, and the angles of vision are slightly distorted. Walking point, I can hear sounds that come from… Continue Reading
“I say, how very odd. I don’t recollect that ever happening before.” Bassford’s wife, Carla, opened one eye. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, still half-asleep. “Don’t recollect what happening?” she asked. “Look here!” Bassford lifted his pajama top.… Continue Reading
The mountain was called the Sleeping Giant. I stood at the peak, the prostrate Giant’s clifftop shoulder, admiring the vista of leafy crowns, the rugged ravines, and slow sailing of herculean clouds, when something tapped my shoulder. I swiveled around.… Continue Reading
She looked up from the warm cup of coffee held between both hands, her gaze following the steam wisps snaking upward, both involuntarily drawn toward and out the parted window. The window itself was old and should have been replaced… Continue Reading
It is the kind of day where the sky looks back at you like a cat. I recline in my seat, arms behind my head. My co-pilot, an orangutan, looks relaxed at his chair, giant hands hanging off his knees.… Continue Reading
Down McLaren, right on First. Argh, I know this friggin’ bus route off by heart. Haunt a bus, they said; it’ll be fun, they said. Sure, it’s fun for late-night-thrills but the monotony is going to make me lose it.… Continue Reading