One afternoon, while helping our mister gather our cart together for the short haul to our designated slot across town, ma said, “Well I’ll be darned if our mister coffee don’t have a blasted tendril and teeny-weeny leaves unfurling from… Continue Reading
Noelle doesn’t have a proper funeral. How could she? What was left? But her mother does hold a small wake in the church. There are flowers, organ music, her senior portrait. The pastor who administers the sermon is young and… Continue Reading
Lanterns on the wagon announced its approach long before it would arrive. The view from the Wal-Mart rooftop did not allow movement on the bypass to go unnoticed for long. Since the underpass from which the wagon emerged was almost… Continue Reading
The woman in the bed began to change. “What big eyes you have!” “The better to see you with, my child.” Wrinkled skin sprouted coarse hair. “What big ears you have!” “The better to hear you with, my child!” Craggy… Continue Reading
Marcus leaned back against the BMW’s door and exhaled smoke into the night sky. His jacket lay inside on the passenger seat and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up in the heat, but his tie was… Continue Reading
In the shallow Escondido valley, hugged by rolling hills, the morning fog cleared in June, 2013. Long shadows of trees became visible. Patches of grey rocks rested between horse, cattle and ostrich ranches. Above the valley, California coastal sage and… Continue Reading
Listen to “And Though Worms Destroy” by Sarah L. Byrne, read by Folly Blaine: [display_podcast] Sarah L. Byrne is a computational biologist in London. Her short fiction has appeared recently or is forthcoming in various publications including Ideomancer and… Continue Reading
When I first met my ex-girlfriend’s new guy, I leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Zahoth Xin Haagra.” He looked at me questioningly, but I didn’t repeat myself because my throat suddenly hurt. Anyway, he had heard. A week… Continue Reading
Dear Son, If you are reading this letter, it must mean that I have died, and that your uncle Dyrz has remembered to deliver it to you as I asked. I am sorry that this message comes to you at… Continue Reading
She wanted help, the thin, jowl-eyed lady. Long pink scars scattered like brush strokes up her brown arms and onto bare shoulders. Her hair hung resignedly past her shoulders. Her lipstick was only approximately in position. She teetered on gold… Continue Reading