Night falls black and starless. His eye is drawn to the cemetery. A chill runs through him. Young sees his breath in the porch light. He takes the air into account—the change. Things will have to be shut off soon and covered, other things will have to be turned on. He hears footsteps and the slamming of cabinet doors. Young thinks, are those snowflakes? I hope not. Trinity’s rusty black Chevy Cavalier has the trunk lid standing open.
Continue reading “Girl on a Trampoline by Christopher Ananias”The VW Starter Motor Catastrophe by Michael Bloor
Drummossie, Aberdeenshire – January, 1976.
Because I couldn’t afford the necessary welding repairs to my Morris van til the end of the month, I was getting a daily lift into Aberdeen, with my friend and neighbour, Stewart. Aberdeenshire is the cold shoulder of Scotland and it was a hard winter. Normally, if you’re getting a lift into work, it would be churlish to object to push-starting your friend’s car. But, in a week of snow and ice, push-starting a VW beetle first thing in the morning involves a major (nay, crippling) effort. So, come Friday, I was pleading with Stewart: we would have to replace his starter motor that weekend. Stewart readily agreed, little knowing the pain and humiliation that would ensue.
Continue reading “The VW Starter Motor Catastrophe by Michael Bloor”The Weight of Nothing by Kip Knott
Sam doesn’t like sunsets. Sunsets for Sam are a daily reminder that death is just over the horizon. Sunrises aren’t much better for Sam either because they just start the clock running again, marking time until the next sunset. Even now, as he stands outside his mother’s house smoking a cigarette while the hospice nurse tends to his dying mother, Sam is unpersuaded by the light of one of those sunsets in which people swear they see Jesus’s outstretched arms in the iridescent rays that beam between clouds. Sam just shakes his head in disgust, then turns and walks inside.
Continue reading “The Weight of Nothing by Kip Knott”Swordfish by Graham Mort
Swordfish laid out in the supermarket, next to tuna steaks and mackerel. Marlin, the guy behind the counter offers, wiping bloody hands on his white jacket. Mussels laid on a bed of samphire. You can almost taste the salt. Call me Ishmael. A wide Sargasso Sea. Wind over waves. Barnacles on the hulls of schooners, where a man could be keelhauled. As it happens, I’m shopping for other things. Breakfast cereal, yoghurt, pineapple, white wine. The list written out on a scrap of cardboard torn from a tissue box. So, yes, move on.
Continue reading “Swordfish by Graham Mort”Love Handles by Susan DeFelice
After his anxiety attack in the barely cold sea water, Barry walked to the outside European-style tiki bar where a woman with a roiling accent was singing Sinatra, with just a stand-up bass and conga player accompanying her.
Continue reading “Love Handles by Susan DeFelice”Sunday Whatever: Roughing It by Dale Williams Barrigar
Roughing It Dale Williams Barrigar
From the ages of twelve until sixteen, I was raised on the banks of the Mississippi River.
I first got truly intoxicated via alcohol on the banks of the river. (Alcohol would later become a major passion, until I had to give it up.)
I first tasted cigarettes on the banks of the river. (Same.)
I first tasted the sacred ganja (weed), too, on the banks of the Mississippi River. (Also a major passion, not given up so far as of this writing, except in the smoking form; medical edibles are stronger and more long-lasting anyway…)
I first held the hand of a girl on the banks of the river.
Continue reading “Sunday Whatever: Roughing It by Dale Williams Barrigar”Week 522: Dope Show 2025
Sometime this spring will mark my fourth anniversary of sharing the weekend wrap duties. It was either in April or May 2021, I think, although I could look it up.
Continue reading “Week 522: Dope Show 2025”Woman With Jigsaw Puzzle by Tom Bentley-Fisher
“I am the Seven Wonders of the World … I am the Endless Ocean and the Garden of Eden … I am the Mountains and Valleys and a Great Desert.”
Gabriella has a complex system for organizing the loose pieces. What might look like a haphazard pile of small cardboard shapes is a clearly thought-out symmetrical pattern waiting to be employed in a system of elimination “far too sophisticated for even the Venezuelan postal service to figure out”, she used to tell her little boy when they sat together day after day working on a new puzzle, waiting for him to die. “It’s like DNA,” she’d say, “every piece unique onto itself.”
Continue reading “Woman With Jigsaw Puzzle by Tom Bentley-Fisher”Shakespeare: Made Man by Geraint Jonathan
In the year 1588, twenty-four-year-old Michelangelo Florio Crollalanza, fearing for his limbs at the hands of the Inquisition, fled his native Sicily for the sceptred shores of England.
Continue reading “Shakespeare: Made Man by Geraint Jonathan”Everyone Dies by Danni Meek
There’s a man in my home.
He’s staring out of the large windows, the ones that I sit by and read my books because they’re the only source of natural light on this side of the apartment. The light from the moon almost gives him a glow, making him look vaguely angelic. It’s almost comedic how ironic that is, considering the fact that he’s broken into my home.
Continue reading “Everyone Dies by Danni Meek”