What is it with shops abbreviating everything? You’d think there was a law in England against using whole words: newsagents sell cigs, greengrocers sell tom’s and pot’s (always with the apostrophe) and apparently furniture shops have taken to purveying something… Continue Reading
Jenny felt inside her pocket. There was a small, smooth pebble that she’d been hiding since she was tiny. A multi-dimensional creature had appeared to her and begged her to keep it safe. If she dug her fingernail into it…… Continue Reading
Sip. I ingest a single swallow and hold on. Bruno says I’ll feel the effects in a few minutes—our flasks will be nice and secure in our coat pockets. Mine’s a thin jacket on a cold night, but ink warms… Continue Reading
Progress bars. All day long, Brett Westley stared at progress bars. Sure, he did some programming too, but each code change meant re-compiling. That meant watching those bars and waiting for them to change color. Green if a project compiled… Continue Reading
I awaken on a park bench slouched over like a hunchback. Starlings announce daybreak. Their sharp chatter punctures my eardrum. I’m even more distressed by the flavor of stale beer on my sandpaper tongue. Grogginess fades away with a whiff… Continue Reading
My mother keeps a jar of Loneliness in the cupboard: top right hand corner, next to the packet of Seething Resentment; both are past their sell by dates, both hardened and crystallized in the suffocating air. I beg her to… Continue Reading
George Moss moves like a man twice his age. Hands in his pockets, he plods towards Gravity’s Edge Gifts. The shop sits like an afterthought across the street from Lenox Circle Mall. The exterior walls wear countless coats of sunset… Continue Reading
Owen was out in the shed, sorting junk for Edith’s rummage sale. He slid an oak hutch aside and there it was; a hole in the dusty floorboards, the size of an apple, in the center of the shed’s floor.… Continue Reading
“Dad! Dad, wake up!” Robert had never regretted anything quite so much as he regretted this cabin excursion. His kids were at that age where everything was a production. Eleven-year-old Blythe was convinced she knew everything, and when eight-year-old Brayden… Continue Reading
Once upon our time. The brothers Rose live in a concrete forest. High up among the choking fog they have a small brick hut; up there with all the other brick huts, another blinking light in the darkness. The elder… Continue Reading