I'd been tumbling in the corner of the market square. Its what I do. People give me money. They throw it in my upturned cap. I did three somersaults and landed square on my feet. No one clapped. What do they want of me? I followed up with a twist in the air and a front roll, but still no-one applauded. I'm not sure they even saw.

The dog was watching though. His eyes curious, his mouth in a doggy sort of smile. I saw him emulate my somersault as he trotted off towards his owner, who was pink and...

Read more

She opened the fridge and took out a jar of pickles. Rubbing the condensation off her fingers onto her jeans, she prized the lid off and pulled out a spear.

Crunching away, she rifled through the crisper drawer, but didn't find anything appealing. She noticed there was still paint on the back of her hand, but she was too tired to rub it away.

The house was quiet, except for the snoring of her husband, which carried through the house. She was beginning to feel like she heard more from him when he was asleep then when he was awake....

Read more

Not that he could fell it, but judging from the way he staggered with every few steps, his legs hadn't healed completely. It was likely he was setting himself up to trip and collapse again, unable to move, but he knew he couldn't stay any longer. He tried to make his steps as steady as possible, but with no percerption of how much weight he was applying, he was at a loss to gauge if he was accomplishing much, and in the back of his mind simply waited for the tell-tale crack of bones re-fracturing, and plummet into the grass....

Read more

The conversation lasted two words:
"Get out."

Get out of my car. Get out of my heart. Get out of my head.

Get out of my life.

He left after that. I think he heard all of the things I didn't say. I was angry with him, and rightly so. He never told me that he was already seeing someone when we started dating. He made me the Other Woman and I had no idea.

His sweater is still under the passenger seat of my car. His handwritten notes are still in the glove box. His voice is still in...

Read more

The lone zombie shambled toward the clubhouse, where we watched, armed with nine irons and pitching wedges. I turned to Adam and said, "Par three, buddy."

"You're on, Sev," Adam replied, and grabbed a bucket of balls, ran out to the porch, and teed up.

His swing was a bit off, and he hooked it, but the ball stayed on the fairway. Not bad, considering the threat of gruesome zombie death that potentially loomed.

"Okay, this time I got him!" Adam shouted, and teed up another ball.

This time, his shot was picture-perfect, and the ball whizzed through the air,...

Read more

The conversation lasted two words: "Never again." They said it at the same time as they exited the restaurant. Why had the waiter insisted on swaying them away from the salmon and toward the tough lamb? Was it deliberate? Did he know this was a make-it-or-break-it meal and was itching to break something, anything? Did he glean from their terse looks that something dire was already on their horizon, and while the kids were asleep, the exorbitant sitter keeping watch, they were out to rehash the missteps that had brought them here? Had the waiter's ex-wife just taken him for...

Read more

I stepped into the bathroom, which was green. There was a tape player and it was playing Chinese gongs. There was a salami in the bathtub. The salami was wrapped in that white netting stuff that they wrap salamis in at the salami wrapping plant. There was a toilet too and the toilet was filled with pee and poo and used tampons.

I was still hungry though so I started eating the salami.

"Are you grossed out because of the pee and poo and tampons in the toilet?" one girl asked.

"Both of us are members of Greenpeace," said the...

Read more

I did not realise how much my life would change after I was handed over The Holy Grail for safekeeping. Up to that moment in time I had no awareness the truth about my family, our role in the history of the world, and the danger we faced on a daily basis. After being told everything, so much made sense. All the near-miss accidents either to myself or my sister, home schooling which I rebelled against, chauffeur, bodyguards that I believed were friends of the family, being forced to join the military.

That day I went to mass and was...

Read more

Monica Mistaikov
I stood on the old wooden bed I always slept in. There was always a window up high and I would always look up to it at noon and see the clock chime. There were so much out there waiting for me to learn. I wanted to go out there, explore the world, make friends. But I couldn't, because I can’t. Where I am from is a powerful city, Nastavbriki. This city, we have to protect it with our lives so no rebels come. But my anonymous parents dropped me to an orphanage when I was very...

Read more

"The river's on fire," said my son. The river did seem to be on fire, if you were only looking at the river.

"No, the sky is," I told him. A reflection from above. He shrugged his shoulders.

He didn't ask why the sky was on fire, just bowed his over over the rowboat's side and continued looking for fish. Small, darting, the color of the river bed, the fish beneath the fire, the river beneath the fire.

My eyes toward the sky, waiting for the fire to come down.

Read more

Contact


We like you. Say "Hi."