Tagged fiction


In Flight – By Henry Dane

I was a six year-old meat missile. My parents drove their car across a parking lot into a mattress store and were killed instantly. I landed in soft, goose-down feather bed. *** I was adopted by my father’s brother, Uncle Luke, a self-taught, self-employed carpenter outside Chicago. When I was eight Uncle Luke had an…


Seven to None – By Rhea Dhanbhoora

They can’t book the baug because they’re a mixed family and the husband hasn’t had his Navjote, but their eight-year-old wants to be like the other children in the colony, so they decide to have a ceremony on the terrace instead. She’s more interested in gifts than prayers, she says, twirling desperately in her polka…


Years Later – By Sieghard Jiang

Ten years ago she was pursuing her Master’s degree in sociology in a Chinese university. She and another classmate, Gang Chen, worked as volunteers for a non-governmental organisation. Their tasks were to explain to sex workers how to protect themselves from HIV/AIDS, and to give them free condoms. Her motivation of being a volunteer was…


As Novelas – By James Brodows

The novela Celebridade leaps from the Brazilian televisions and streets. At last week’s Flamengo soccer match the fans shook homemade signs: Quem matou Lineu? (Who killed Lineu?) The question on everybody’s mind after the soap opera murder. And this week with the revelatory episode looming: Eu matei Lineu (I killed Lineu) Eu sei quem matou…


Knuckles – By Jessica McDermott

A friend once told me the only part of the human body that doesn’t turn to ash after cremation are knuckle bones – like little Jacks, small concaving squares with the durability to withstand temperatures reaching above 1,5000 degrees Fahrenheit. My dad’s knuckles are fat. From growing up on a farm and playing basketball for…


Baby – By S.W. Campbell

We were all sitting at the dinner table the first time Baby brought up that she wanted to get the gastric bypass surgery. Momma was dead set against it from the beginning. I can still hear Momma’s high pitch voice squealing across the room, her hands frantically smoothing the table cloth. “Oh god no Baby. You…


Utopia – By Nashae Jones

She chewed the bone down to the bristle. “Slow down.” She heard the remark, but kept grinding her teeth down on one of the empty bones. “Antoinette,” her mother hissed. She couldn’t stop. Her fingers slipped through the remaining meat, gliding through, tearing mercilessly. Her mother pulled back her arm. “Slow down girl. You’ll choke…


Rain – By Zebulon Huset

The rain was falling so hard that if it didn’t hit you on the way down, it bounced high enough to hit you from the ground. These were the kind of afternoons Sara liked best. When all the stores closed and everyone hid inside their houses, or, when the tornado sirens go off, as they…

Teressa Ezell

In Praise of Mud by Teressa Rose Ezell

And what of this wind-whipped, soggy, savory day with its cloak of grey and its stinging drops, brown grass and bare branches, stark naked but still in glorious, dancing majesty? There is no train of hopeful, athletic feet running through the park now; just my husband, myself, and our wolfish dog, trudging. My husband’s loafers,…

Jenni Baker - Author

It’s Cold And… by Jenni B Baker

It’s Cold And The heat’s not working. The heater’s on, but I’m still freezing. The streets are paved with gross and I’m starting to wonder if these shoes really have what it takes to go the distance.  The buildings are so high. The roads have so many potholes. The land  has technical and creative challenges….

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