PITCHER OF WATER • by Robert Boucheron
I perch on the rim of a clay pitcher. Water is inside. I can smell it. I am thirsty. I grip the rim of the pitcher with my claws, tense my legs, and duck my head down. My beak cannot… Continue Reading
birds
CROW’S FEET IN THE SNOW • by Deven D Atkinson
The deputy said the snow where Uncle Jake had broken his neck is interesting. Over by Harper’s cabin a jay is harping and there are flashing red and blue LED lights on top of all of the sheriff cars and… Continue Reading
THEY ARE LEGION. THEY ARE PIGEON. • by Lynda Clark
They started with our children. A shrewd move on their part. Many parents were glad when their child walked calmly into the centre of the flock, rather than chasing, limbs flailing. Some were perturbed that their little livewire now crouched… Continue Reading
THE NESTING HABITS OF WRENS • by Christopher Owen
The wrens came in early March, building a nest of twigs within the ivy that grew in a twisted cascade from the old butter churn planter in Barbara’s sunroom. The old woman took to watching them, her face hovering scant… Continue Reading
DIFFERENCES • by JR Hume
Roger staggered out of the transfer chamber and collapsed in a heap. I slumped beside him on the rough granite, heart hammering. My head throbbed. A few minutes later I got up and tapped a hidden switch. The door at… Continue Reading
GODS OF CONCRETE AND STEEL • by C.L. Holland
Niall knew what people said about him. They said he was slow, simple. Not right in the head. They looked at him staring off into space, at the girders on the local building site, at the opaque water of the… Continue Reading
BITING OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW • by Brian Laing
I watched as the cat prowled the lawn under the bird feeder. An instinct honed over thousands of years, the predator stalking its feathered prey. Muscles rippled under sleek fur as the orange tabby crouched in the long grass much… Continue Reading