On the canvas, the sun glints off the edge of the pool where the turquoise water meets the azure sky. The palm trees almost sway in the sea breeze, the water shimmers as if tickling the sides of the pool. In a dimly lit room, towards the back of the museum, a single spotlight in an otherwise empty gallery focused its beam on a painting of a swimming pool.
To the left of the painting sat a lifeguard.
Continue reading ” Dive Right In byJames Flanagan”
Ruth is forty-six, of medium stature, with brown hair and blue eyes. She is a biologist specialising in wolf behaviour. A week ago, she received a scholarship from a private institution to write a book about these animals. Ruth maintains that by means of howling, communication can be established between our species and theirs. Wolves can pass on lessons of cooperation, solidarity and affection. The Secret of the Wolf is the title she intends to give the book. This is why she is living alone in a cabin in the woods. Having gone through two divorces, and having no children or close family, wolves became her only passion; she even confessed to a colleague that she prefers their company to that of humans – “wolves don’t lie,” she said.
Continue reading “The Wolf and the Lamb by João Cerqueira”
My friends had always been transparently envious of Molly, even if they weren’t verbalising this. But it was obvious.
Continue reading “My Unimaginary Friend by George Oliver”
Saudade: (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near to something or someone that is distant; the desire to be near again to what has been loved and then lost, “the love that remains.”
Continue reading “Just Give It Time by Matthew J. McKee”
After piling the paper bills from his last passenger and placing the square photograph of his wife on top of the money, the ferryman lights a match. He lowers it slowly, shaking. But just then a breeze blows out the flame, leaving nothing behind but a thin waft of smoke. There are no more matches, unfortunately. Now his hut—earthy, with a cot, a bucket, and a small shrine inside—feels emptier than ever.
Continue reading “Karass by Iván Brave”
I call my boss, whose texts I’ve been ignoring for days, and tell him I’m returning to work. He says not to bother. Serves me right. I’ve let everything go to hell since Arlene left. I vow to pull myself together. Tomorrow. I take a few diazepam and go to bed.
Continue reading “The Man Who Pulled Himself Together by David Henson”
Two old lady best friends stand in front of the Green Lizard Lounge , est. 1955. Angie is tall with ample boobs. She has silver hair piled on top of her head stylishly. Lucy’s bleached curly hair makes her look younger than her 84 years. Neither of them dress like old ladies. Angie wears leggings, a black and white striped knit top, and black glittery Tom’s. Lucy wears a denim dress and sandals. They both shop at vintage thrift stores.
Continue reading “Green Lizard Lounge by Nina Welch”
Death loved Life, and she loved him, too.
Life was everything and nothing. Her skin, translucent and radiant, was the sun, and her shining eyes the millions of stars. Her small mouth was the clouds and her hair was the singing forests. Life sang, passionate and golden, and green was brought to the world. Life wept, and water nourished the land. Life slumbered, and there were nights of twilight.
Continue reading “To Wilt by Djordje Negovanovic”
It came to us in our dreams.
That’s how it passed, jumping from person to person, dream by dream. Some were lucky and woke with just a mild fever, but others weren’t so fortunate. They were never the same again following that dream, and sadly, some never woke at all.
Continue reading “The Dog in Our Dream by Chris Farrington”
The succubus child was not supposed to fall in love.
“Demon, please, a child for my wife,” the desperate man pleaded.
The succubus child was not supposed to fall in love.
“I have tried and tried and tried, Demon, but I cannot rear a child. Please, for her. She deserves this happiness.”
The succubus child was not supposed to fall in love.
Continue reading “Love by Djordje Negovanovic”
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