Short Fiction and Poetry

In March when the days stretch swollen-jointed fingers through the grey seed hull of winter sun, [...]

I’m just hanging around this cramped room awaiting the dreaded words, “You're up next , kid”. Pacing up and down like a caged animal [...]

I am a lone traveler with a bag of metaphors. It gets bigger with every new person [...] and place, but not in weight.

When my father was stationed on that beautiful bay with its long, uninhabited peninsula, we lived in officer quarters [...]

I gave each line a fair start but finished only a few. After the first page, I was eager to sign so I quickly flipped to the second. [...]

Maybe it was the fact that it was day three out of five on her own with the kids — Richard was away on business again [...]

The old man was as lean as a tough winter, and yet he never got cold. He wore a hoodie and tatty fishing gloves in January. [...]

Open a window, otherwise you’re living in a tomb. Avoid dying on a humid Wednesday, slumped in the communal vinyl throne [...]

Red has three distinct memories of his mother. He remembers the first smile she gave him. His twin sister Dahlia says he’s making up the memory [...]

Through the crack in my bedroom door, I hear someone say, “It’s as still as death out there.” The metaphor loses me. The dead are never still [...]