All Stories, General Fiction

What’s Your Opening Line? by Nina Welch

“It’s the hardest thing to make someone laugh especially if you’ve had nothing to laugh about.” –Tracy Morgan

“You know, I’m homeless.”

Silence.

“Hey you in the second row. You look surprised. Do you think I’m too cute to be homeless? It’s pitiful. I don’t have a floor, a roof over my head, a refrigerator to put food in, a place to shower. Do you feel sorry for me? Ah, a few of you. Don’t. I’m a poet. I don’t follow the rules, and I get inspiration looking up through the moon roof of my 2008 Buick, La Crosse, Gold Mist. My grandpa left it to me in his will. I think of him every night as I sleep under the silver apples of the moon and wake to the golden apples of the sun. You probably think this is a poetry reading. Don’t worry, it’s not.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Merely Semantic by Mary Ann Dimand

George thought of it while he was shaving. He was pulling the skin of his right cheek down and carefully stroking with the razor held in his left, less adroit hand, and it was such a shock that he cut himself: Lawyers are magicians. As he applied styptic to his dark cheek, he spun it out: Lawyers bring entities into existence by naming them and delimiting them. Without lawyers, there are no geographical countries, and barely peoples. (And those peoples, insofar as they exist, tend to be distinguished as much by the language they speak as by their companioning.) Lawyers set boundaries, and the lesser wizardries of surveying and mapping arose to aid them.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Arrival by Anna Elin Kristiansen

Fear is gnawing at my insides when I snap my compact shut. Getting caught up in my looks is of no use now. I’m tired – beyond tired, actually, and no amount of powder or mascara will change that. When I meet him, I know I’ll feel naked and transparent. He’ll see right through my façade because I’m half him. My tricks come from him, so he’s bound to know them already.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Overtime by Karen Uttien

Saturday, 6.10pm

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Liam muttered, pulling into the petrol station.

Ten minutes earlier

‘Please.  Please,’ the girl begged. 

Against his better judgement, Liam tapped the address into google, and took the cash. 

‘Thank-you soooo much!’ she said, helping her inebriated friend into the car, before skipping back to the busy beer-garden.

‘You okay?’ Liam asked, watching his young passenger’s head wobble in the rear-view mirror.

In her defence – she did try to open the window.  But the rainbow projectile flew with such force, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Blacksticks Blue by Robert Cutillo

The terraced house had a brown door, an unkempt garden, and a crooked gate. Weeds sprouted from the wonky paved path, and a torn plastic bag clung to a bare bush.

Michael stood before the gate, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other holding a plastic bag of his own, his eyes fixed on the front door.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Christian Ladies of Wrestling

(A Novel Excerpt) by James Hanna

Author’s Note

Gertie McDowell, a naïve young girl with a talent for misadventure, has joined a women’s wrestling troop called Christian Ladies of Wrestling. The troop was put together by Wanda Sue, a bank robber with a streak of religion whom Gertie met while serving time because she “trusted the wrong sort of fella.” The mission of the troop is to bring folks closer to Jesus by having women posing as Christians beat the sin out of women posing as transgressors. Gertie’s wrestling persona is Haystacks Holly, a lustful temptress who needs a good punishing. The troop also includes three runaway girls: Cocheta, an Apache girl with sleeves of tattoos, and Sofia and Mia, a pair of sinewy migrant workers. 

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Week 472: Where Have You Gone Darby Crash? Punk Bed Fiasco and Not All That Irritates Makes a Pearl

Whether it Be Curbing or Kerbing, Nothing Vomits Sweeter Than Stolen Beer

Society has been going to hell since the invention of the Good Old Days. Funny thing there–because it’s true and yet there are new Good Old Days rolling out of the Good Old Days Factory constantly. A Paradox, until you remember that New People are being produced at even a greater frequency.

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All Stories, General Fiction

After the Fall by Dianne Willems 

“Let’s have intercourse.”

 “…excuse me?”

 She trailed her fingers over the wooden table. Bought at some drift store a million years ago, for a buck and a half. He still liked it – a memory.

“Listen”, she said, “let’s face it. The marriage is dead. There’s nothing for us to do anymore. Except intercourse.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Out of His League by Gerald Coleman

“Love is a zero-sum game. Pretty much.”
– Billy Olsen

When Billy Olsen first saw her, he behaved oddly, like a Cubist painting tumbling down a staircase. 

It was Tuesday evening. The Parrot Lounge’s sole décor statement was a stuffed parrot in a cage hanging from the ceiling below a light bulb in cigarette smoke. It was not the place to take a date nor find a snug corner to brood in—too much light, too loud, substandard bar food, and flat pitchers of beer.

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