Fiction

“True! -nervous -very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?” – Edgar Allen Poe The plastic accordion curtain slid back, and he could see into the bathroom. Would it have… Continue reading Farewell Francis

So, you’re thinking about working for Mr. Bob Hensham, huh? Think he’s the cat’s pajamas or something? Think his business is going places, but you’re wondering, why am I going around town telling people that he’s the Devil? I’m really glad you asked me that. Settle down, thanks for the beer, and open them big… Continue reading Bob’s Machine

Miranda couldn’t recall the last time a circus came through town. The flier listed the city basketball court as its venue. Miranda squinted through the bright sun at the banner hanging in the stadium window. It looked vintage, like an advert for Barnum and Bailey’s on display in a museum exhibit. Miranda cast her eyes… Continue reading Pied Piper’s Infernal Circus

No one lives in my house now. You can tell because, at night, there are no lights. People should have lights on at night. Not too late at night, people have to sleep, but around dinnertime or just after, when people go to the den to watch Get Smart or something else with a laugh… Continue reading Plucking the moon from the Bottom of the Ocean

Pat had recently gotten really into staring at ceiling fans, primarily the one in his bedroom, but he wasn’t particular. The one in his bedroom was good. Well not good, but interesting. Sort of. What he meant was that he could look at it for a long time without feeling like he wanted to stop… Continue reading Tether

Whenever he and his wife Rawia had friends over, or would go to theirs for dinner, Brian liked to imagine beforehand how the conversation would go. He’d rehearse in his head the opening gambits, the witty responses and the insightful aperçus that he imagined he would deliver, accompanied by the acknowledging nods or perhaps a… Continue reading Imaginary Friends

“Mom!” Kayla knew right when she yelled it, trouble would soon follow. Trouble always did, especially when her mother had started her liquid dinner around lunchtime. Kayla, 7-years-old, was in bed, covers pulled up tightly up to her nose. Her blue eyes peeked out widely, searching for the noise that caused her to utter that… Continue reading There’s Nothing in the Closet

Isabelle’s admissions portfolio is nearly ready. Brooke has the family narrative, the test scores, and the letters of recommendation. These came from Isabelle’s godmother, who runs a marketing firm, and from their pastor at First Presbyterian. Brooke wrote the third letter herself, in the voice of Isabelle’s nanny, Ellen, and had her sign it. The… Continue reading All the Bullets are Silver

Sarah Whitechapel was currently struggling to imagine life without her ring finger. The knuckles of her left hand ached as she drew her fingers into her palm for the thousandth time that morning. She’d been told it helped to visualize, but it was difficult to picture nothing where there’d once been something. It was difficult… Continue reading Off-Cuts

My parents always referred to Ireland as ‘home’. I took that to heart and thought we were home, not understanding this was just a holiday. And being home in Dublin, meant we also had to travel down to my mum’s hometown, Enniscorthy, and visit the relatives there. The trip down was four kids, my mum… Continue reading Power

That Friday night, for all that came later, was a blur until Samantha drunkenly slammed his door. Taye watched her leave with her friends, then ended her ride in the app. She would tip nicely; sometimes he could just tell. He rated her the full five stars, as he did for all but the absolute… Continue reading Ride

If you were going about your normal day, how many owls would you need to see before you thought something was wrong? Actually, scratch that. Too soon for that. So, have you ever remembered a show or something from childhood, and you start hunting around the web for it, maybe even start asking people about… Continue reading Episode 10: “The Owls of Olivewood”

They pulled up in their rented red convertible to 76 Achlys Cove. Morgan let out a gasp. “Oh. My. God.” Can you believe this?” “I can’t wait to see the view!” Miles said. She raced up to the door and put the number to the house, while he unloaded. He looked up at the old… Continue reading HONEYMOON