All Stories, Humour

Pooboogle by Adam Kluger

The delivery guy from Arturo’s Italian Restaurant had a sixth finger. It waved about like a little pink antenna. Horace always gave him a big tip and tried not to stare at it. They would link eyes and smile at each other. There was a tacit agreement not to stare at the unusual little digit —and to tip big…and move on. Every time that Horace ordered from Arturo’s he forgot about the delivery guy. The chicken parmesan was so outstanding that the gross-out factor at the door was but a minor inconvenience.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Top of the Line by Marissa McNamara

Melanie’s boyfriend Ray began drinking as soon as he moved in. At first it was just a few after work. Then it was four, maybe six. She liked to cook, but he always wanted to go out. She was tired of every restaurant within 10 miles, but whatever, he paid. He always made a big deal of paying. Pulled out his worn brown wallet, the one he said was “top of the line.” He always said that. His things were “professional grade” and “top of the line.” He “spared no expense.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Closure by Mary J. Breen

The parking lot was filling up around me, their headlights bouncing off my rear-view mirror. I sat gobbling my maple-dip donut and watching one old person after another make their way towards the lighted pathway. Just ahead of me, a tiny couple launched themselves out of an ancient white Cadillac, linked arms, and rocked away in unison, picking their way around the frozen puddles. The clock on the dashboard said 7:37; I couldn’t delay it any longer. All I had to do was get through the wake tonight and the funeral tomorrow and I could be gone by lunch. Short and sweet. Hello Gerald. Good-bye Roberta. And no time to talk about Paul.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Louder You Scream by Martyn Clayton

 

Every girl loves a showman reckoned Big Micky Taverne.

Stand behind their car as the waltzer takes a group of them up and down. Watch as they huddle up, heads rested on shoulders, screaming in unison. One if not all will be giving you the glad eye, willing you on. Come on they’re saying, give us a spin. So, you do and they scream so loud it would burst your eardrums if they weren’t already bust from the music.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Deep End by Sarah Dara

Note: There is some Urdu used in this piece. Translation is provided at the end of the prose.

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My toes sank into the warm sand. I wiggled them in deeper, walking toward the fierce body of water ahead. The sand became cold and wet. Wind blew against my face; echoes of the past whispering in my ears. I brushed my hair aside and started to move towards the ultramarine waves. My family called to me as I neared the sea. Shouts of ‘what are you doing,’ ‘come back,’ ‘it’s too dangerous’ were heard spreading in the wind, but I kept going. Waves tickled my feet as I wandered deeper and deeper. The sand beneath my feet vanished and I was paddling. The sea enveloped me. Waves struck me violently. I was deep enough. I stopped paddling.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Dudes Chilling by David Turko

It was a few weeks ago I made the conscious decision to start trying. After that things went miserably downhill. My girlfriend that I now realize was hardly my girlfriend – more like girl I slept with semi-regularly – left me; I was fired from my mindless dead end job – which was somewhat liberating until I realized it meant I was unemployed; I was broke – which is surprisingly common among twenty-somethings but that didn’t make it any more tolerable; and I was having mood swings that made me question my sanity. I was feeling the dreaded weight of the real world settle on my shoulders and I knew this wasn’t something I could just shrug off.

Without a job, girlfriend, or any money, I did what any responsible almost-adult would do and moved back in with my parents in my hometown of Vancouver. My parents were cordial, and kindly informed me I had two weeks to find a place before they would start charging rent.

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Day Off by Patty Somlo

Jorge Mendoza was the last man to receive a call. As he picked up the phone, he was still debating whether to go to work or not. If he went, what would the other men think? If he stayed home and lost his job, no one in the valley would hire him. And if he got deported, he would lose everything.

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All Stories, General Fiction

A Day in the Life of a Sandwich Artist by Tom Roth

I got up from the floor and glanced at the frozen lake. In the morning, the sunlight streaked across it like bright scribbles of yellow crayon. I saw yellow spots all over the cabin.

“You got a little too mcskunk last night,” Wiley laughed, pressing empty beer cans to his chest. Wiley was big. His body was shaped like a bulb baster.

B was small and just flushed the toilet. “Mcskunkess is up. How ya feelin’, bitch,” he smiled as he walked toward me. B had a patch of frizzy hair that looked glued to the top of his head.

“Um,” I said.

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