Wheel of Fortune by Nick Black Oh yeah, life’s been nothing but sweet for Jasper since he invented that flat round rolling thing of his. He has respect from the elders. A cave higher up the cliff, further away from…
A Long Way Away
A Long Way Away by Diane Simmons Dear Mummy and Daddy It is realy horrible here. The journey took AGES and AGES and I blubbed and the lady took my pear drops away so I didn’t choke. Visiting is…
Three Hundred and Eighty Five Yards
Three Hundred and Eighty Five Yards by Rob Walton Some say Conan Doyle is only here because the organisers offered him a good seat to watch the athletics. Others say he is here on behalf of the Daily Mail. I…
On The Ethics of Book Burning
On The Ethics of Book Burning by Nick Lord Lancaster These are the facts of the matter. The warehouse fire was entirely accidental. I don’t know the cause of it; I’m not privy to that level of information. My role…
Balm
Balm by Charmaine Wilkerson “Tiger Balm!” she screeched, right there in Aisle Nine. “Ti-ger Ba-alm!” “What? What?” her son said, with that down-curved oh-shape that his mouth took on when he was annoyed. He wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t expect him…
There Will Be No Lace
There Will Be No Lace by TM Upchurch Your lips bubble and slurp, a sweet shik-shik suckle of air as I curl around you, smelling your butterscotch breath. You pause to gape a greedy smile, swallowing the night; you are…
Blood Orange
Blood Orange by Sherri Turner I spat out my mouthful, the remainder of the segment glistening red-flecked between my fingers. Ruby juice splashed on the stone floor. “It’s got blood in it,” I said. “It’s not real blood,” my mother…
Declaration
Declaration by Madeline Anthes My husband is gone. The other women cry for their missing men. I see them in town, their babies swaddled against their chests. Their eyes are red and swollen. They are the picture of grief. Loneliness.…
Thrice Around the Walls of Troy
Thrice Around the Walls of Troy by Gary Duncan Round and round, thinking: All this, for her? Remembering the stories he’d heard about her: the face, the ships, all that. That first time he saw her, his idiot brother…
Postbellum
Postbellum by Fiona J. Mackintosh January 25, 1867 Somewhere outside Jacksonville, Illinois, the train slows to a crawl. Clara cups her hands and peers into the darkness but sees only the rail bed stones and the ragged edge of a…