MY BAD • by Mike Pemberton
Bob bent down on one knee and popped the tops on the last two cans of paint. He flipped the lids of “Royal Lavender” onto the canvas drop cloth and stared at a muddled mess of grey and white satin.… Continue Reading
Bob bent down on one knee and popped the tops on the last two cans of paint. He flipped the lids of “Royal Lavender” onto the canvas drop cloth and stared at a muddled mess of grey and white satin.… Continue Reading
Lunchtime sucked when your best friend was at home sick. Sure, I could hang out with those I labeled ‘school friends,’ but then I’d be the kid who didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the group. As a… Continue Reading
She’s just a touch tinier than the rest of the cheerleaders, so Viv is the one who gets thrown into the air. She likes feeling like she’s flying. She feels special up there. Maybe even magical. When she goes upwards,… Continue Reading
If I buy the jumpers baggy, my mother mightn’t notice. I rifle through the knitwear in Penney’s. Saturday after lunch and it’s manic — young ones jostling, women aiming buggies like weapons. Mam let me come to the city, but… Continue Reading
Janelle stared at the medicine cabinet mirror and gave herself, and her black and white polka dot bikini, a final appraisal. She tried not to grimace. Trusting her counselors was part of her therapy. The real test was what reaction… Continue Reading
I hadn’t seen much of Neil for several years. At the end of primary school he’d gone private and I’d gone comprehensive. I didn’t think of him often but a time came when my friends were being dicks, not bullying… Continue Reading
That’s him, my friend announces. Her eyes are deep, empty bowls, hungry for something to fill them up, staring at the tall man approaching. He’s dressed in black, commanding in the way that a bird of prey resonates with focus… Continue Reading
The party is just getting started. Our guests are laughing and listening to Pandora, happy at the start of the holiday weekend. Down at the beach, the sun sets into the Gulf, and here, the sky hazes yellow to pink.… Continue Reading
Pull ropes from red and white, twist, stick on wax paper-covered pans. Inhale air that’s hot, sickly sweet, and still smells a bit like horse. “They’re going to love your candy canes this year,” says Mom with her pin-up girl… Continue Reading
Martin slouched on the seat in the train taking him home from classes in the Highly Capable program. His gangling legs had outgrown his jeans. He had taken a worn paperback from his satchel, but it was hard to read,… Continue Reading