Short Fiction and Poetry

I drop onto the couch next to Sally, thinking about lost time. She touches my cheek and points to the ceiling. “You’re wiped out [...]

All that Phil Rollins could do was sit there, his eyes fixed at a point low on the wall of the office. His hands lay intertwined [...]

The pounding in her head beckoned her back into the waking world. She squinted her eyes tighter to avoid it. In a sudden recognition [...]

Down here everything has become old and stale, as if time has finally abandoned me to decay. My walls are decorated in shadows [...]

Majid Sardar is the name of a real man in prison in Iran. He moved to Canada from Indonesia because he had a job offer [...]

The moss is more than a novelty wig. Carefully note how it infiltrates, appearing overnight on the scalp of a roof [...]

I never went into the basement again after what I saw. “A horror cave,” that’s what my dad called it. He is obsessed with scary movies [..]

They were like a different species – blonde, tanned, lean, with straight, white teeth, and cars they got for their 17th birthdays. [...]

ony puts his weight behind the punch sending the old man down, across the floor and into a display shelf; sprawling [...]

Gyula felt his throat. He opened and closed his mouth. He spoke to himself. His voice sounded loud in the quiet of his bedroom. [...]

Dodging a Jim Beam bottle hurled in her direction, Haley bolts through the back door and runs on a dirt path to the river [...]

The Gunther Observatory loomed tall and imposing, adorned with intricate carvings that whispered of forgotten secrets. [...]

“I’m an airplane pilot,” the man said. He had had a few beers in the hotel’s bar by then, even though it had only opened [...]

“Welcome to the Greatest Show on what’s left of Earth!” the Ringmaster proclaimed to the mostly empty stands [...]

“Larry, let me solve your financial difficulties…for five million dollars let me murder you?” Rocmon asked. [...]

The birds were flying low as they approached land. They were always looking out for what may be in the mud and water of low tide. [...]

As the leaves manifest their orange hues, I am happy, yet tears gush, showing no mercy. Seven months ago, we spent three days [...]

Dear Diary, I’m sorry I couldn’t write to you last night like I always do on Sunday. We didn’t get home until real late [...]

They are my friends, these sparrows. Always reliable. Here they come again, one after another, on this ordinary afternoon. [...]

In the morning when Birdie opened her bedroom curtains all she could see out the window was a thick curtain of fog that hid every shape[...]