I look out our window at the crowd — men and women with their shirts and blouses untucked on one side, some holding up sneakers onto which they’ve written obscenities. The people chant my name and that of my wife, Monica. A few also cheer for our daughter, Lori, who runs up to her bedroom and slams the door.
Continue reading “Relentless Pickle by David Henson”
A single strand of hair drooped from Katherine’s thumb and forefinger as she held it in front of the waitress’s face, a tiny droplet of sauce or grease still hanging from the end where she’d plucked it from her plate.
“I’m really sorry, I can get you a fresh plate,” said the waitress, backing away.
Continue reading “Snakes everywhere by Alex Kellet”
You tap left but the phone doesn’t register. Touchscreen gloves aren’t so touchy after all. Instead, the story slides onto the next one, the one on the right, which glowed orange and black like hot molten metal. There’s a silhouette of a kangaroo.
“Seven o’clock, Martin, time to get up,” said Siri from the bedside table.
“Alarm off,” he said.
“Today is Estella’s birthday, would you like to send her a greeting?” asked the cheery voice.
“I’d love to send her a greeting but she died a week ago so it seems a little pointless.”
“Thank you all for coming.”
Like I had a choice boss. You can fill the meeting invite up with all the pleasantries and corporate wank-speak you want, the real message says “Attend or be fired” so here I am.
“I’ve brought Dawkins in from marketing. He’s going to take us through our latest product launch. Real out-of-the-box thinking. Went live…this time last week eh Dawkins?”
The man in the pastel suit nods his sculpted head. He smiles a perfect, retina-scorching smile and fiddles with a laptop smaller than my phone.
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