According to the man at the agency, half a meter’s rainfall over two days was all it took to so loosen the soil the local cemetery gave up its coffins. Dozens of them, he said, dozens of coffins bobbing along half submerged amid the general flow of debris – tables, wardrobes, phone boxes, and so on . . .
Continue reading “Installation, by Geraint Jonathan”
She sat up, prim and proper, as if in counterpoint to her casually draped robes and the haphazardly pillowed sedan chair. Like for her previous sittings, she was artfully arranged in Laurent’s beautiful courtyard, the scent of flowers filling her nose. Her lover looked up from his canvas to offer a conspiratorial wink, as her loosely wrapped coverings rippled in the breeze and brushed against her skin. The slight movement of the cloth kept the glow of their lovemaking fresh, and the faint curve of her lips betrayed imperfectly hidden delight.
Continue reading “The Moment by Evan Hale”
I sit down at my desk to work on the script’s first draft and open my right-hand drawer. A 25 cm man leaps out and slaps my face. You might not think something that small could pack much of a wallop, but he does. In the beginning I could handle him, but he grows larger and more brazen every day. I put him in there to teach him who’s boss, but since that did not work, I grab him in my fist.
Continue reading “Is It Me or My Talent You See? By Cy Hill”
He looks long into her eyes, probably for the first time. He has focused, from the bottom up, on every part of her nude form, spending minutes, hours, on the impossibly smooth contours of her toes, her hips, her breasts, her shoulders, but this, he thinks, must be the first time he’s really looked into her eyes.
literally stories 