BIKES • by Bob Shepherd
When I reached my fifth birthday, my mum and dad took me into the front room. They had prepared a surprise. I tried to tug at the old grey blanket they had draped over my present and it crashed to… Continue Reading
neighbours
GIVER OF DRAGONS • by Cody Nowack
Teardrops of snow danced in the night to the melody of the wind, spiraling toward the earth by the thousands. Angela watched the storm by candlelight from the window in her living room, sipping hot chocolate. She figured the candy… Continue Reading
NEIGHBORLY DUTY • by Michael D. Davis
“This is stupid,” Burt said. He walked behind his wife down the hill. The darkness fell from the sky like an old lady in her shower. “I don’t see why,” Cleo said. “We heard a bang and now we’re checking… Continue Reading
WARMTH • by Kristine Gill
On the morning Bill Somers put his dog down, I was not on my porch. Most mornings I sit with tea in hand watching as the sun crests Bolduc Hill and the cool night air takes on a warm, heavy… Continue Reading
LOVE AND THE ART OF TELEGRAPHY • by Christopher Owen
I just turned fifty: the same age as my estranged father when he died. Such a thing gets a man to pondering the details of his life. Such thoughts made me get busy, first by cleaning up my dingy old… Continue Reading
YOUR FRIEND • by Max Everhart
Harry sat in a semi-circle with five other kids, waiting for John Barrett to hurry up and open his birthday presents. John, who Harry only ever hung out with whenever his real friends were grounded or out of town, stood… Continue Reading
POOL SEDUCTION • by Elizabeth Cottingham
I never hear the water breaking next door. The neighbor’s pool sits silently as sunlight pours across its surface everyday. Bees and flies skim the water but know to not drop too close to the glossy surface that would threaten… Continue Reading
UNSPENT • by Kate Curran
The leaf blower started again. Running through her sliding glass door in an open, yellow robe and fuzzy slippers, Eloise bent to scoop up a handful of fountain stones, smooth river rocks polished and wet, shining bits of natural art,… Continue Reading
THE DEAD TABBY • by Lanny Durbin
I’m running down the stairwell of my apartment building, holding a lifeless tabby cat in my hands. I didn’t kill it, I swear. At least not intentionally. I like cats just fine, definitely enough to never want to see one… Continue Reading
BLAST OFF • by Frederick Charles Melancon
When Dex was seven, his father tore up his rocket ship. The metal popped and his father cursed. With Dex’s face stinging from his father’s hand, the boy skidded across the ground. “We don’t have the money for this,” his… Continue Reading