When Philip was six years old, his mother went downstairs. He remembered it well: her retreating back as she slowly walked down the first flight of the rough stone stairs, holding on to the shaky banister. As if she were afraid to slip on the moss-covered steps. As if it mattered. She paused five steps…Continue Reading “The Fire-Escape”
Pepper was dreaming of canned sardines when someone knocked at her door. Waking almost immediately she yawned and unzipped her weathered sleeping bag; which took her about a minute these days with that dang busted zipper. This time took her two minutes. She slid open the makeshift door that separated her from the thin hallway…Continue Reading “S’bud”
Viola marvelled at her creation, immensely proud. Well…it wasn’t hers, technically speaking. It had existed before she’d happened upon it, but Viola had expanded upon it greatly, cherry-picking the best bits, and so she claimed full credit for it. A nimbus of bubbled encircled her, infinite in number and variety. If one looked closely, and…Continue Reading “Membrane”
Colin knocked once on the door before Jaime opened. He welcomed the sight of beer, and the friend that came with it. “Hey, man! Glad you could make it,” Jaime said as he let Colin into his apartment. “It’s really pouring down, huh?” “No kidding,” Colin said, removing his soaked coat. “Let me take those.”…Continue Reading “In Green Ink”
The children stumbled in from the west, through the rough sedges by the wild corn where the dogs are not allowed to wander after dark, their faces streaked with sweatdirt and fieldcake; black and brown topsoil across their bodies. The tallest boy carried the smaller, his brother we supposed, and he said not a word,…Continue Reading “From Where the Wood Burns Black”
When I get back from their funeral, Mom and Dad are in the kitchen. Dad is at the table, reading the newspaper. Mom is making coffee. They aren’t talking. Doing what they did every day for years, for decades. Just doing what they do. Just like always. They died a week from each other, barely…Continue Reading “Clockwork Ghost Routines”
It is getting harder for her to hear me. Sometimes I shout and roar with all my might, just so Rebecca will pay attention. I stamp my hooves and clap my great woolly paws together. I dance and caper and throw petals from magnificent flowers that only bloom in the light of midnight moonlight when…Continue Reading “Real Friends”
Charlotte doesn’t know what to do with the Egg. No matter where she puts the device, it feels out of place in their new apartment. On the dining table, it’s obtrusive and doesn’t match her china. On the mantle, it looms over the whole room. When she tries placing it on her bedside table, she…Continue Reading “The Egg”