“You can’t see anything going that fast, especially at night.”
“You can see everything going that fast, especially at night.”
Nora has no idea what Jack means. He drives the speed limit back to her apartment and drops her off.
Continue reading “There Are Just Too Many Places I’ve Got To See,’ Jack Says”
I try to learn one interesting fact a day. It’s best when this happens naturally. A dollop of Fairy Liquid ingested over a period of a few weeks will cause serious sickness. Dollop was Melanie’s word. It was unlike Melanie. Almost onomatopoeic.
Continue reading “Orders of Magnitude by Kieran Wyatt”
“Put ’em on t’ side,” Grandad croaked. He must have heard the kitchen door click open and shut.
He’d sent me to Mrs Byrne’s on the corner of Wightman Street for twenty Senior Service. “You can earn yer tea,” he said. “But mind I want change.” He gave me two half crowns. “Should be a bob.” He jabbed the stem of his briar at my face. “Think on.”
Continue reading “Sixty a Day Man by Andy Larter”
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”
Q never swerved to avoid a beast on the road – dead or alive. He would drive through it with an iron fist, as if fur and soft tissue were nothing. A mental illustration of focus, a kind of road karate like the art of board breaking. Always direct your power beyond the wood stack. A fox, a kangaroo – he had a bull bar and was not squeamish about death – an emu once near Broken Hill, had snapped a rabbit’s neck.
Continue reading “Swerve by Tamara Barrett”
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”
“Handy, this is a pretty good turnout, isn’t it?”
“Oslo, man, how many people do you think are here? Maybe 200 or so? And people keep coming. I mean, a lot of these folks just invited themselves, I think.”
Handy and I are sitting on a slope overlooking the picnic grounds at Southside Park on a cool September afternoon. The sounds of the blues and the aroma from the bar b que are calling me back to the celebration.
Continue reading “A Hell of a Story Part Three by Frederick K Foote”
To whoever has the misfortune to find and listen to this recording, this is not a hoax, joke, or the results of delirium, hallucination, or a fevered drug dream. My name is Oslo Jennings, and I’m a 64-year-old victim of a fatal heart attack while driving. My medical records at the San Juan Medical Center document I was dead for 4 minutes and 33 seconds.
Continue reading “A Hell of a Story Part 2 by Frederick K Foote”
“But why, Gran, why does everybody have to die?” He was only eight and it wasn’t like the idea was news to him. But it wasn’t something he thought much about until it got personal.
She only shrugged, advanced one of her checker pieces. “Pay attention.”
Continue reading “Gameday with Gran by Shawn Nocher”
“I want you to go out into the street today, Lionel, and stand there, for maybe an hour or so, then come back and tell me what you’ve seen. I want you to be real descriptive, make it all come alive. Don’t let me down because I’m really getting fed up sitting here, not even able to see a leaf on a tree. You’ve got your problems, but you still have your sight so please treasure it and share it with me.”
Continue reading “Counting Leaves by Tim Frank”
literally stories 