| Crow's Feat by Cathi Radner Castrio It was likely the healthiest relationship that Aubry had in her life. Her husband had come and gone. She had no children. There were no close neighbors. But the crows came every day. The leader, the first to befriend Aubry, was Enid. She was large, pure black, with a single beady eye. Aubry had wondered if the missing eye made it hard for the bird to navigate. She expected it would be a distinct disadvantage and the bird would quickly fall prey to a cat or a fox. Perhaps that was why Aubry, who ... The Life and Times of Samuel Sarra by Matt Jardine Chapter One Samuel Sarra was born on a cold December morning in a cold and stark maternity room in a cold and ageing hospital. He was blue, not from the cold, but from the umbilical cord twisted, anaconda-like, around his throat. “He’s a fighter this one, such a miracle,” grinned the hefty matron returning baby Sam to his mother’s breast. Twenty minutes before, the matron whisked him away from between his mother’s legs, puny, limp and pale. The doctor that saved him stood in the background, nodding his ag... Chapter Two By two years old little Sam had still not uttered a single word, yet neither had he thrown a tantrum. He was special, indeed. Charlie, his older brother by a few years, communicated Sam’s needs. “Drink. Snack. Drink and a snack,” Charlie would announce to Mr and Mrs Sarra when the need arose. “What is wrong with him?” worried Mrs Sarra. Mr Sarra smiled, “I don’t know sweetheart,” he said reaching for her hand, “but I’m sure he’ll be ok. He looks happy enough and Charlie loves being translator.... Chapter Three On his third birthday, Sam uttered his first words: “Drink. Snack.” Mr and Mrs Sarra looked at him with delight. “I told you he’d be fine,” Mr Sarra reminded his wife. “There’s always a reason.” Mrs Sarra ignored her husband’s I-told-you-so smile. Charlie looked at Sam in dismay. Five years later, Sam wondered, as he often did, why Charlie didn’t like to play with him much. The universe listened in for his conclusion as he kicked his football up against the back of the house, the sound echoi... Chapter Four At eleven years old, Sam stopped playing football. He was tired of being the vice captain of the B team at school. Who’d ever heard of a World Cup team being led out by the second in charge of the second best team in the second best school in the second smallest county in the country. The only first in his life was his experience of death. During Sam’s eleventh year, his last remaining grandparents, the only ones he’d known, died. First his grandfather at the beginning of the year, then his gra... Chapter Five At fifteen Sam enjoyed two more notable firsts. The first was the breakup with his first serious girlfriend, the girl who’d committed herself to him for the rest of her life. The second was the fistfight with his best friend, Jeffery. “How could you do it?” Sam asked Jeffery as he and Sam’s now ex-girlfriend stood on the school recreation field, hand in hand. The universe leaned closer to hear what they had to say. Neither of them bothered with a word of explanation. “Why?” Sam tried again. ... Chapter Six During college Sam studied biology. Darwin’s theory of evolution by natural selection helped him make sense of the world. And then a friend asked a question. As a summer party wound itself down to an end, Sam and his friends, empty cheap bottles of beer clutched in hand, lay on the grass looking up at the stars. Suddenly, stone cold sober and to no one in particular, Roger sat up and asked: “How did the universe begin?” The universe cupped its ear as the rest of the group sat and stared into the... Chapter Seven On graduation day, Sam and Gemma stood hand in hand beside the rest of their classmates as the photographer called out instructions from the front: “Left a bit. You, yes you, right a bit. A bit more. Lovely. You, straighten up…” ordered the photographer. As the group moulded to the instructions, Sam leant closer to Gemma’s ear and whispered that he’d never seen her look more beautiful. She smiled and squeezed his hand. The universe smiled down at them. “Ok you lot, stop fidgeting.” As the photog... Chapter Eight Samuel Sarra Jr was born on a cold December morning, as his father had been. Along with the gift of new life, came another, unexpected and not so welcome; post-natal depression. It sometimes bought a change to Gemma so dark, Sam hardly recognised her. For the next five years, Sam and Gemma were too busy with work and Sam Jr to notice the weight adding to their waists and the lack of inclination to either do something about it or, at least, to hide it from each other. Date nights were few. Occasi... Chapter Nine Fifteen years passed in the blink of an eye, each year disappearing faster than the last. Sam enjoyed five promotions, secured his own office and looked after a team of over thirty young, keen and bright minds all educated in things other than data analysis. At home, Samuel Junior had left the roost for university and Samantha attended college overseas. The house was quiet without the children, the calm as eerie as it was peaceful. As if by routine, Sam and Gemma’s conversation still centred ar... Chapter Ten “Sam’s here, Mrs Sarra,” said the nurse. “What dear?” said Sam’s mother. “Sam’s here,” said the nurse, louder this time. “My husband?” “No, Mrs Serra. Your son.” “Lovely dear, thank you,” said Sam’s mother. Sam groaned with the ache in his knees as he lowered himself down on a chair beside his mother. His mother turned to the nurse, a look of concern etched on her face. “You said Sam was here,” she said. “He is, Mrs Sarra. He’s right there,” she said pointing to Sam sat beside her in a big blue... Chapter Eleven “One thing I know,” thought Sam as he lay in bed. He groaned as he sat up, the cancer throughout his body causing agony he could no longer bear. “I’m going to die.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply to ease the torment. “We’re all going to die, one day,” he said out loud to the empty bedroom. The truth brought no consolation. He thought back on his seventy-two years, a life that started with so much promise but was ending in so much pain. It had been a patchwork of good and bad experienc... The Art of the Date by Katie Quintero He’d been watching her for at least 20 minutes now. The raven-haired woman sat in front of a maritime Monet, drawing on the sketch pad she’d taken out of an oversized purse. Her hair was pulled up in a springy ponytail, which swung gently every time she looked up at the painting. Her outfit was a little dressy for a trip to the museum, even if it was the Met, which led him to believe she was there to meet someone. The lack of a companion made him question this hypothesis, until he noticed her ch... The Purloined Cake by O.K. Last When the angry-looking pig in the pork–pie hat and torn raincoat barged into her, Frex fell back and turned to watch as it barrelled down the length of the compartment and into the next carriage. She wasn’t so lucky with the second pig. The first one had knocked her off balance and this one sent her backwards into the lap of whatever was sitting in the seat she fell into. The pigs disappeared from view, lost in the menagerie of passengers sitting and standing in every available space. "Rude an... It was hard to keep Bee in sight because some of the animals were taller and wider than either of the girls. A party of bulls in fancy suits and waistcoats blocked her view for a time, and a posse of giggling foxes in short skirts waved their phones and took selfies, stopping her moving forward until all of them had managed to photograph themselves with each other. “Influencers, aaaaagh!”, said Frex out loud as she did her best to push through them. To make matters worse, several giraffes were s... The taxi and the helicopter reached Butterfly Hollow at about the same time. Everyone got out of whatever they were in and Frex, Bee, Chuck and Bob, and Ronja the rat all greeted each other. Everyone brought everyone else up to date. “Remember, take that bike back”, said Bob. “The Wolf will fight about any little thing”. “Later”, said Bee. “First we find the stolen cake, before Butterfly Hollow gets closed down.” They were standing in a car-park opposite the bakery, between the Whirlybird and th... Combat–by–Cake had been a tradition on the island for longer than any of the animals could remember. Like all traditions it had its own complex and idiosyncratic rules. Word spread that the cake catastrophe had been averted, and so large crowds from the three villages gathered in the traditional spot (known locally as The Traditional Spot) in the centre of the small island of Antiphony for the equally traditional Combat-by-Cake. Lardly Kingsize asked Frex to listen to him practise his speech. “... Melissa Is Missing by Jacqueline S Miller Melissa is missing. Yes, she's my girlfriend. I last Saw her early Saturday morning, Taking a bus to the Town Centre. Every weekend she goes shopping. Roy is missing too. Ah, You've found them both? So, Melissa went To a Registry Office On Saturday, and married Roy? You know, I had no idea... What? They're both ill? Have they eaten something toxic? Oh, I'm glad they're recovering. Didn't really want them to die, ha ha. I admit, I Did buy those chocolates. I like buying presents. They were for Roy's birthday. The chocs were laced with poison? How dare you accuse me after I Even contacted the police! Everyone knows I love Melissa. No! It’s me she loves, not Roy. Don’t arrest me — I’m innocent! The Body in the Lake by Bruin Fisher Detective Inspector Myfanwy Gruffudd replaced the phone receiver in its cradle on her desk. She slumped in her swivel chair, resigned to her fate. 4pm Thursday afternoon and she had just learned she wouldn’t be home any time soon. She glanced across the room to where young DC Williams was looking at her enquiringly. “Come on, then. They’ve found a body in the reservoir.” The young policeman’s eyebrows shot up his forehead but he was out of his chair with his waterproof jacket over his arm and hi... Myfanwy arrived back at her little three-bed semi late, tired, and grumpy. She parked her Mini on the driveway and let herself in at the kitchen door. She checked the freezer, the pizza was still there. She took it out and turned on the oven to pre-heat. Then she went to the foot of the stairwell and yelled up: “Hywel!” A flurry of activity was audible from his bedroom. His bedsprings creaked, the floorboards groaned. A moment later Hywel appeared at the top of the stairs, looking dishevelled an... By the time Myfanwy arrived at the police station the next morning, Williams was already at his desk and apparently hard at work. She chose not to disturb him for a while, and settled herself at her desk with the list of ideas she had jotted down. There was an e-mail from the pathologist with his report. She printed it and sat back reading it. There wasn’t much that she thought helpful to the investigation. He had died of a heart attack, most likely brought on by something called Hypertrophic Ca... By lunchtime, DC Williams had made contact with nine of the eleven people who had purchased one of the wetsuits. “Ma’am, we might have to visit all eleven of them eventually, any of them might have been lying over the phone, and we can only really eliminate them if they can show us the wetsuit. But I have a couple of people I’d like to see first.” - and he passed a piece of paper over the desk to her. Two names, the top one James Blackburn and a note beside it that Williams had spoken to Blackbu... They arrived at a tired-looking block of flats at a little after six. There was no lift so they climbed an echoey staircase to the seventh floor and then walked along a balcony with a rusting bannister to flat 7-3 and rang the bell. The door opened, revealing a slightly-built man, probably in his late 30’s, wiry and lean, like a marathon runner. As soon as he spoke, though, Myfanwy pegged him as gay. ‘I wonder what my Hywel would make of him?’ she thought. There were clues - blond highlights in ... Amanda Porter did not look like a woman distraught because her husband had disappeared without trace over a month ago. Myfanwy took the lead. “Mrs Porter, when did you last see your husband?” “March 25th.” “Over a month ago? Where is he now?” “I neither know nor care.” Myfanwy’s eyebrows rose. “Why would that be?” “We’ve been married four years. I thought we were doing okay. Then a month ago he told me he’s been carrying on with someone else. A man.” She thought of her Hywel. Williams took over.... Back at the station, she settled at her desk with a cup of coffee from the machine and then picked up the phone. She dialled the number she found for James Blackburn. He answered, and she got straight to the point. “You told us that the reason you kept quiet about David’s death was that he didn’t want his wife to know he was gay. Would it surprise you to learn that he came out to her the day he died?” The line went quiet. She waited. Eventually Blackburn spoke again. “How did she take it?” “Badl... Myfanwy impulsively decided to encourage Hywel to attend the inquest with her. Somewhat to her surprise he was keen to go, and it pleased her to know they were going to do something together, and her work was unlikely to stop it from happening. It took place in the village hall. DC Williams was there but she didn’t sit with him, preferring to sit just with Hywel. James Blackburn was there looking frightened. The patholigist was there. Hywel watched the proceedings with interest, which heightened... Kennette Kendalite by Cassandra Lee Yieng AUTHOR’S NOTE: This radio play began as a musical I first drafted in 2009. My SoundCloud playlist titled “Kennette Kendalite: The Musical” contains the melodies of the songs. Enjoy. SCHOOL HALL, PIANO GIRLS’ CHOIR If I could, I would do something great If I could, I would surely do If I could, I would follow my heart That will make all my dreams come true If I could open just the right door If I could, I would surely do If I could know which cause to fight for I’ll know what it takes to push through KENNETTE Every time I make awesome plans There’s a new boy ‘round the block I feel threatened because romance Makes many a laughingstock Like my mum neglected high scores Her ... AT HOME, WASHING PLATES KENNETTE …But you know I always aimed to enter Johns Hopkins and become a doctor. I was happy when you put me in a top girls’ boarding school. I could have been there forever. What even is this co-ed sinkhole called Mo Liu Yeh College? Can’t I enroll in DGS? NATALIE I was fired. You have no idea your dreams were over that night. Since you’re so ungrateful, you can torch what’s left of your sorry future. Welcome to cruel reality. Welcome to Hong Kong. KENNETTE But, the boy... BIRDSONG, TREES RUSTLING KENNETTE (panting) I hate church hikes. Flowing stream NATALIE Look. Is that pock-marked ruffian the new boy ‘round the block? KENNETTE And I’d just given him my unfinished siu mai… ERIC Hi Ken, I’m Barbie. Fascinated with you ever since you botched that choir performance. KENNETTE I love thee not, Eric Everett, therefore pursue me not. ERIC You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant. KENNETTE If I don’t keep you in second place where you rightly belong in school, I won’t ge... INSIDE A LOBBY, DOWNPOUR OUTSIDE. KENNETTE E-V-E-R-E-T-T… wow, this neuroscientist hosts candlelight dinners… ETHAN My foot! KENNETTE Sorry, sir, I wasn’t looking. ETHAN Hang on. Are you that girl some bridge is raving about? KENNETTE Dr Everett? ETHAN Call me Ethan. The lift’s here. Join me in my office. Elevator “ding” sound. Ethan’s office. ETHAN Some bridge told me about you, Kennette. KENNETTE I was a straight-A student at Georgette’s. Girl Guide. Kindness Ambassador. Volleyball and swimmi... KENNETTE Ethan, here’s my experimental design report, complete with 888 citations. ETHAN The whole process will take at least five years. KENNETTE Five years? That’s too long. I’d have graduated. ETHAN The good news is I’ve done the heavy lifting, and you just have to be my poster girl. KENNETTE You’ve tricked me. ETHAN Or you can proceed with five-plus years of medical testing… Footsteps. Glassware clinking KENNETTE It smells funny. Like smoke. ETHAN Exhaust fans broke down. The New York Times ... GRASS LAWN. CRICKETS. ETHAN I regret taking on this ungrateful wench. (strums guitar) I’m afraid it’s getting late But then I still have to wait I hope you will come at any rate So that we can get things straight I have a thought I’ve never sought But there’s a new heart that you have caught I could have gone and called it a day But here’s a song I want to play How I wish you had retained a little feeling Though I won’t expect a sea How I wish you had not overplayed my leaning Though you’d like... INSIDE ETHAN’S LAB. ERIC It smells like urine here. NATALIE My baby girl… Your uniform… your menses leaking all over… KENNETTE It’s Dr Everett’s fault! ETHAN It’s her own decision. ERIC I read your docs. Quadriplegia and incontinence were adverse effects that affected 44% of your human subjects, which is why you could never launch it… ETHAN Some bridge! ERIC Kennette, your bandage fell out. KENNETTE Tore it out with my teeth by candlelight— (knocks over something) ERIC No! The Bunsen burner— NAT... LANDED WITH TWO THUDS. ERIC Grass. KENNETTE Sunrise marks a brand new day. ERIC Are you okay, Kennette? KENNETTE Once I ripped off the microneedle, I could move somewhat. ERIC The flames spread along straight lines. Was it you who covered everything in oil-streaked paper? KENNETTE I… ERIC Deactivated the fire alarm? Locked everyone from the outside? KENNETTE It’s alcohol… Another thud. ERIC Your mother. Her skin’s cold. I’m so sorry for your loss. KENNETTE I’m sure your father’s burnt to a crisp... Murder at the Beach by Susan Cowling Candy Cooper was finally having a few days off, beach time. As a bonds-person, she spent her days chasing down fugitives who thought it was fun to jump bail. But this break was all about sun, sand and spending quality time with her weirdly, (in a nice way), psychic daughter, and stopping her from freaking out other beachgoers. They had literally just walked onto the beach and settled, Candy with a cocktail and a good book, was stretched out enjoying the heat. Luna had wandered down towards the s... Trimmings and Trappings by Ivan Tukeel It was the week before Christmas, but despite the approaching holiday, the workload of the Bakerville Detective Agency showed no signs of stopping. Housed out of Gary, Indiana, the B.D.A was a nationwide detective agency well known for taking the cases that no one else would. Cold cases with no rational explanation, which would easily scare off most other agencies, were their bread and butter. Such was the case that came across the desk of James Constantine on December 15th, 2024. James was the... Liminal by Nick Calvert It started as a bit of a laugh; after all, it was pride month, and who would mess with a large group of friends sitting outside a bar draped in rainbow pride flags, on a beautiful summer's afternoon by the beach? A bunch of out-of-town hooligans, that’s who. There must have been between ten and twenty of them all dressed in wife beaters, jeans with braces, and wearing Doc Martens. To be fair, they were minding their own business, laughing and joking as they walked down the pavement past us towar... It's Fine by Jaysen O’Dell “It’s fine.” Those were the last words she said. Morning He slowly shook off the disorientation that follows being startled awake. The bed next to him was empty. The dog was gone. “She must be taking the dog out.” Slipping out from under the warm covers, he reached for his robe while slipping on his house slippers. That’s when he noticed her robe and slippers were still by the bed. Walking out of the room he looked for her. “Hey, how did you sleep?” She didn't move. “Hey, you ok?” “I’m fine”, she said. “Oh for christ’s sake... I know that means any... Bob “Three mother fucking hours. I have been searching for her for three mother fucking hours.” “Jesus Jim. What did she say?” “Just ‘I’m fine’ and ‘you know where I'll be’ both of which are absolute bullshit.” “What kind of dumb ass thing did you do this time?” “Just my normal stupid shit. She was washing the dishes, I went in for a quick squeeze, she slapped at me, I said ‘you should be happy I still want to’ ... oooohhh.” “Duuude. Even I know that was stupid.” “I meant that I'm not looking around... Jill “Hey Jill, this is Jim, I'm looking for Trish. Do you…” “I bet you are you bastard.” “Wait. What's with the hostility?” “After what you did? You should be hiding in the woods, not calling her friends!” “What? I think I'm missing somthi…” “You’re a dick.” “Probably. But I don’t think grabbing her ass and suggesting she should be happy that I still find her attractive …” “Is that what you think this is about? You're a fucking moron!” The line went dead. Sally “Sally? It’s Jim, don’t hang up, I need help.” “That's what I've heard.” “I get it. I fucked up. Problem is…” “You are too stupid to know what you did?” “… I mean... yeah. I thought it was me getting handsy, but apparently... She left her phone at home, said I would know where she is, then left. I’ve checked with the kids, Jill, the coffee shop, the parks, the beach where she likes to take the dog.” “And now, you need some dumb woman to help you?” “Whoa, hold up! Where is that coming from? I’ve ... Mom “You better not be calling me looking for your wife. That mess is your own doing.” “Hi mom. Great to talk to you too.” “Go fix this mess and leave me alone.” A moment of revelation. Jim sat in the driver’s seat. “I’ll know where she is,” he muttered to no one. Jim looked at his phone. Her face staring back at him from his lock screen. He remembered the day he took that picture. They had just purchased a weekender sailboat. She was listening to him dream about anchoring overnight in the coves and... The End “Permission to come aboard?” “I wasn't sure you would find me.” “Neither was I.” “Are you going to come below? We have some unfinished business.” Jim opened the companion way hatch. Climbing down into the cabin he said, “listen, I'm sorry. I said things that were insensitive and mean. I should have chosen my words with more care. I need to remember that you are not a guy and I need to try to communicate with you in a way that works for you. That whole ‘treat others the way you want to be treated... The Beginning Jim woke with a start. It Is NOT Fine by Jaysen O'Dell “Hey Jim!” Trish yelled as she opened the door letting the couple’s spaniel into the house. “Look at this bone Barb dug up from the edge of the marsh.” “That looks odd. Where did you say she fund it?” “Behind the Samuelson’s. Kind of up by the big live oak. Not in the mud. I figured a deer died and something buried it.” Jim thought for a moment. “Did you say buried it?” “Yeah. Barb was digging for a bit and then came back with... alligators don’t bury things do they?” “No. No they don’t.” Trish ... The Jims “Good afternoon Mr. Roberts. I’m sheriff Jim Johnson, this is deputy Jim Jeffers, deputy Jim Jackson, deputy Jim Johns, detective Jim James, detective Jim Jim.” “Hell... As a Jim Roberts, I guess I’m qualified for the force.” “Since you didn't notice that R and J are different letters... probably not.” “Seriously?” “No, that’s a joke. But you missed that one too. So…” All the Jims laughed. Sheriff Johnson waited for everyone to resume their activities before continuing. “Mr Roberts, detective J... It's bigger than we thought “That dog of yours... we should rename her Sally Samuels and get her on payroll.” Sheriff Jim Johnson, detective Jim Jim, deputy Jim Jackson and two other officers where at the Roberts front door. Mrs. Roberts I believe you know all the officers, but Mr. Roberts I don’t believe you have met deputy Sally Smith and detective Sally Sykes. We think someone in HR is punking us. It does make monograms easy though. “We borrowed some ground penetrating RADAR from upstate and scanned that site. You weren... Fear Trish and Jim sat in the living room. Barb laying between them, ever oblivious to the problems humans create for each other, stretched. “Jim, what did he say before they got into the cars?” “I’m not sure. What do you think they said?” “Don’t you lie to me! You have better hearing than me. What did they say?” “I DON’T KNOW!” “YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” “THAT’S THE SAME THING!” “You’re afraid to scare me aren't you?” “Then you already know what he said.” “I thought I heard ‘Do something about this n... News article “Hey Trish, did you see the article in the Weekend Gazette? They mention you and Jim.” Tammy called every Saturday. “Yeah. Jim and I were just talking about the interviews. I thought it was nice they gave Barb credit for ‘cracking the case.’ Jim's feelings were a little hurt.” “Oh hey, gotta run. Talk to you later!” Tammy hung up. “Tammy?” Jim asked. “Yeah, she saw the article.” “That was a short call. I’m still not sure that our idiot dog cracked anything but a bone.” “Stop being petty. They me... Alina by Kaide Li Alina could not recall the exact moments before the crash. She thought she saw a figure walking too close to the highway’s edge but then the lone silhouette vanished into the shifting shadows of the trees just before she turned onto the small road. She had barely registered the strange scene in her mind when something dashed out from the side, a flash of movement, sudden and wild. She swerved instinctively to avoid whatever it was that had stopped in front of her in the middle of the road. That ... Darkness. Where was she and what time was it already? She was slowly conscious of a faint hum in the background and a soft rhythmic beeping coming from somewhere near her left ear. Was it darkness she was seeing, or had she gone blind? She tried to reach her hands to her eyes but found that she could not move or control any part of her body, as if she existed only as a consciousness in a phantom vessel. Another darkness grew, this time from inside her, pressing against her thoughts until even th... She was now aware of a bright light above her eyes, and voices moving around her in quiet whispers. She seemed to remember the language of the words they were speaking but the words slipped out beyond her grasp and made no sense to her. The voices were just like musical sounds, each syllable familiar, yet foreign, like a melody which she had forgotten the lyrics. Was somebody talking to her? Or talking about her? She tried to respond but felt a sudden wave of fatigue overwhelm her, pulling her b... She woke to a sharp sting of antiseptic. Was she in a hospital? Her thoughts were sluggish and her memories were fragmented and disconnected, returning in flashes. She recalled the loud deafening sound of a car crash in the night and the thick black smoke emitted from the front of the car. Without warning, the car had then burst into flames. She felt like she was reliving that moment again as the temperature in the room seemed to rise. Sweat beaded along her skin, sliding down her forehead. Pani... In between her half-awakeness, she could make out two persons speaking to each other, a man and a woman. Who were they? She knew their voices from somewhere, she had heard them countless times before in her dreams, constantly by her side talking to her, telling her stories and simply just keeping her company. The voices floated above her head and she held onto each word dearly. When they left, she counted their receding steps until she could not hear them anymore. /ˈθæŋk ˌjuː/ Thank you? The wo... A terse conversation in hushed voices brought her back to the present, her bed in the hospital instead of the cage of a burning car. “Your wife is responding well to the new drugs. We are hopeful that -” “And that bump on her head - you said that it will be gone once the swelling goes away.” “That bump? Oh, it seemed to be an exostosis which she must have had since young…” Catching the look in his eye, she hurriedly added, “but we will look into it to confirm -” “Just call me when she wakes up.”... The woman tried to open the car door but it was locked and would not budge. She then went round to the side of the road and returned with a rock in her hand which she smashed through the window without a moment’s hesitation. As Alina watched her, it felt like an out-of-body experience staring into her own face, watching her own self moving autonomously. There was a woman out there who looked like her, yet it was not her. The woman maintained eye contact and kept talking to her, as if she was wor... She slept fitfully, unsure whether she was dreaming or remembering. “Sweet baby, dear. You don’t need to be afraid when Grandma is here.” She found herself shaking uncontrollably and tears were streaming down the sides of her face. A weight shifted at the edge of the bed as someone stood up and tucked the blanket around her, wrapping it tightly around her like a baby in swaddling clothes which immediately calmed her down. A cold bony hand then gripped her face and gently wiped away the tears fro... “Hey, it’s Min here to see you again. Are you awake? No? Well… Just trying my luck. That husband of yours… He’s making it a real chore to come visit you now. He’s been easily irritable these days and seemed to enjoy picking a fight with everyone he meets. I’m just trying to find a time when I can avoid running into him.” “Anyway, I can only stay for a short while today. You stay strong, girl.” Min reached out to give her hand a tight squeeze. Her fingers then lingered over her right wrist. “I’m ... It was supposed to be their tenth birthday celebration. Their parents had planned everything, a trip filled with adventure, laughter, and memories to last a lifetime. The sisters discussed excitedly about which of their toys would get the honour of joining them, packing and repacking their bags in the days leading up to the trip, only for their mother to swoop in and to take everything out. Alina remembered with a laugh that there were lots of wailing after that, and the wailing had been theatri... There were muffled sobs in the room. Someone was pacing in the far corner, their footsteps restless and heavy. “I can’t do this anymore.” She heard a voice, filled with exhaustion and sorrow. “We just said goodbye to my mom last month and now Ally’s like this and we have no idea if she’s going to wake up. I already lost one daughter. I cannot lose another. Ally… she’s all I have left now.” There was a pause, fragile and aching. Then there was another voice, softer but steadier. “Ally was always ... Alina noticed that the sleeves of the woman’s blouse were charred and she could smell the singed ends of her hair as she stretched across her to tug again at her seatbelt. The air was thick with smoke, acrid and suffocating. Yet, through the heat and the choking haze, the woman kept reaching forward, pulling at her seatbelt, trying to free her. A name slipped from Alina’s lips, barely a whisper. “Elena.” It could be a moment of delirium but she was certain that the woman froze and there was a fl... Aunt Molly and the Mystery of the Two Legged Donkey by Bart Kestenbaum One day, Harry, my eight-year-old, asked if we could visit Aunt Molly as soon as possible. He wanted to ask about her donkey after a woman from an animal shelter visited his school. “Who loves animals?” the woman had said after presenting a slide show. She smiled as the entire class shot up their hands as high as they could. “Who likes to see animals in pain?” The pupils clutched their chests with folded arms. She smiled. “Who has a pet at home?” Hands up. “Who wants their pets to suffer?” H... Aunt Molly lives in a mobile home behind ‘Fat Larry’s Roadside Cafe’. It’s the place to go for truckers in search of a pit-stop, the crème-de-la-crème of bacon sandwiches and a good strong brew (Fat Larry’s place that is, not Aunt Molly’s, although she has entertained one or two truckers in her time.) Aunt Molly hasn’t lived in the mobile home forever, but long enough that no-one can imagine her ever having lived anywhere else. Her home sits at the far end of a large plot of land covered in gra... The gate to Aunt Molly’s place was once red. It had a shiny plaque announcing: 3 Molly and Arthur's Uncle Arthur (not by blood, he and Molly never married) has been dead over fifteen years now; the plaque is still in place but dulled with bird shit; and the gate is now pink and so warped from constant mizzle it takes a shoulder bump then two hands and a foot to prize it open and get inside. If it was your first time inside Aunt Molly’s gate you could be forgiven for thinking that you were standing in a scrap yard rather than a garden. One could spend a lifetime looking around it and still find... “Cover your eyes me lovelies,” Aunt Molly cackled the day I took Harry to ask about her donkey. She limped ahead through the unlit passageway. “Aven’t had the chance to organise meself this morning.” She halted. “On second thoughts, better not cover your eyes. Can’t see much as it is. Really must get a new bulb. Not that I can put it up with me hip like this. Maybe you could put it up for me?” she said turning to look at me for confirmation. I nodded. Harry and I waited while she closed the d... “His legs?” said Aunt Molly. Harry nodded. “Well, there’s a story,” she said, “but before I tell you that, let me tell you about his Zoomies. Your Uncle Arthur and Gerald came up with the idea. It’s the least we could do for that crazy donkey, really, for all he had to go through…” Harry shifted in his seat. He’s a good boy. I know he didn’t really want to know about how Uncle Arthur and Gerald came up with the idea of the wheels, but loves Aunt Molly far too much to say so (besides, once she st... The sun was slipping out of view by the time we left Aunt Molly’s. As I navigated the bumps and troughs of the car park, I glanced at Harry as his eyes fought to stay open. It had been a long afternoon full of chat but he was none the wiser how Albert had lost his legs. As he leaned his head against the side-window, I figured he’d heard enough for one day and I’d let him sleep all the way home. As we drove, part of me was relieved he’d fallen asleep before Aunt Molly’s explanation. I wondered w... September Daffodils by Linda Weeks Susie sank down onto a memorial bench in the park, closed her eyes and put her face in her hands in despair. ‘When are things going to get better?’ she sighed. It had been a horrible week at work, her children were stressed about forthcoming exams at school, the car was having some kind of weird problem and now her husband Derek had been admitted to hospital for tests after having a funny turn while out shopping at Tesco. There was a stiff breeze, but sun began to warm the back of her neck and s... Artoo's Garden by Ron Ward Colin checked the address in his notebook. He loathed banging on a door asking for admittance. A gentle buzzing being much preferred. However, he had to draw Ms. Harmon’s attention somehow. He knocked. Colin heard a muffled voice. “The door’s unlocked, come on in. There’s tea on the table.” Colin turned the handle pushing the door open. He was embarrassed by his reluctance to enter. Inside the room was nearly empty. A small two seat couch. A maple wood and plastic chair with vaguely art deco el... “Oh my God this fucker is alive.” Franklin said crab walking away from the corpse. He was in the process of zipping up the bag for transit when the stiff’s arm lifted out of the bag. “Are you sure it is not contracting muscle? Dr. Brown pronounced him twenty minutes ago.” Max said. “His god dammed eyelids are a flutter. This boy ain’t dead yet. Or he is coming back to life.” Franklin replied. Max exhaled his frustration in the form of a double puffed cheek blow, slow and satisfying. Too early t... Artoo was talking about his prize Hawthorn tree. I picked a berry. Popped it in my mouth, the taste was astringent but not too, sweet, a hint of over ripe apple. We talked for a moment there in the garden. I tried to take a step but tripped all the way to my knees. My glasses flew into the suckers at the base of the Hawthorn. Erin started laughing. “Look down” she said. I looked down and there at my feet we half a dozen small men. Their skin was green. They were bulbous as if made of pudding. A... “His garden. I tripped on a Hawthorn root. My glasses fell into the bush. The glasses landed deep in the thorns. I bear the wounds.” he blurted. Obviously avoiding details of what Artoo was talking about. “You look as if you are far away. Staring into empty space.” Willamina said. “I think I disappointed Erin. I fear I acted like a bumkin at the opera.” He still look like he was in a trance. “I was just going to suggest that we go downstairs and visit Erin. If she can corroborate your story it ... “Is that her place?’ Max said pointing to a door a few centimeters ajar, letting yellow light escape around its edges. “I think you better wait in the hall. Let DC Null and I check things out.” Max said. Max knocked on the door. It swung a further open. “Is any one home? Ms.” Max looked at Colin. “Harmon.” Colin said. “Ms. Harmon, I am DC. Hardy, I am here with DC. Null We don’t want to give you a fright.” Silence. Max hit the light switch. “Come on in Colin, tell us if you can see any diffe... Willamina waited until she heard the lobby door close. Pressed number two on her contacts list. The phone rang. “Artoo’s Garden, this is Harley how can I help?” “This is Mina can you get him on the phone?” “Mina my sweet. I hope you have good news.” Artoo asked. “In my opinion he is solid. He revealed nothing about the Garden. No mention of the Pixies attacking him or his disappointment with the fairies. Valista will be home Tuesday. She has already agreed to pay up. “Colin bought the Thwo... He aced the first test This is a dangerous place Expect no mercy Dead Air by E. Kinna Marla Raines had a rule: never engage with fanatics. Conspiracy theorists, UFO chasers, ghost hunters—she’d built a career dismantling their claims with calm, factual analysis and collaboration with a tight network of scientists she’d cultivated during her many years as a scientific journalist. Her weekly podcast, Signal to Noise, had gained a loyal following of skeptics, scientists, and curious listeners who loved a good debunking. She preferred going head-to-head with pseudoscientific types wh... She checked her inbox in the morning, and again the next day. Elias hadn’t responded, so she searched for social media pages or websites to contact him. Nothing. There was also no activity on Trent’s academic credentials either. His academic page was long dead. He had no online presence and had not published a research paper since 2021. It was odd, but she’d met a few conspiracy theorists who went to great lengths to stay off the grid because they often had a persecution complex. No matter. The ... After reaching her destination Marla stretched upon exiting her car, basking in the soothing heat of hot desert air. It was just past noon, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. It wasn’t a ghost town. Ghost towns had personality. Darnell just felt... sterile. The welcome sign was so clean it looked scrubbed daily. The gas station was pristine but unattended. The 50s style diner, which had windows all around, was empty except for a lone waitress polishing a countertop that already gleamed. ... Apart from some pastel-coloured prefab houses that dotted the landscape, Marla could only see two other buildings, one on each side of the diner. Marla tried the general store first, finding a clerk and cashier but no customers. Neither recognized the photo, nor recalled any strangers staying in or near the town. At the hardware store, the teenage clerk didn’t look up until she mentioned the trailer park. “Oh,” he said, then shook his head. “Nope. Haven’t seen him.” “But you were about to say so... It wasn’t hard to find the red and cream Winnebago parked at the edge of a dry riverbed, nestled under the shade of a single dead tree. The desert stretched out in all directions like a rust-colored sea, broken only by the curve of power lines and the glint of Marla’s car. No one answered her knock, and there was no sound coming from inside. She jiggled the door handle—locked, but the window next to it wasn’t. Marla slid it open and shimmied her way inside. The air was still and had a musty smel... This was Elias’ first mention of the military. Marla’s hands dropped into her lap, and she pushed away from the desk. She wanted to dismiss it all as a hoax, and yet the signal had arrived exactly as Elias predicted and he was nowhere to be found. Her thoughts then drifted to the odd townspeople she’d met earlier, and it clicked what bothered her about them—they had a kind of Stepford demeanour. If it wasn’t a hoax or the manipulations of a disordered mind, what was it? Had Elias uncovered some ... A Life in a Year by Dawn Oshima Heat bakes the grey earth dry while sunflowers nod their heads, welcoming summer. Tendrils of black smoke invade the tiny iris petals. Darkness falls. A snowy hill, glass shards shining like diamonds. Stalks of heather abound. Newborn sun wraps warm rays around amaryllis seeds. New life awaits. The Last Straw by A. Parker Jarvis The Hostess was in her element, though she wasn’t sure if that meant fire or water. At this moment, fire was winning. The light of the chandelier burst from a thousand glass teardrops, catching the reds and golds of the wallpaper, like tiny dragons escaping the pattern, trailing sparks as they went. In the giant mirrored wall behind the fireplace, she caught a glimpse of herself: long black hair to below her waist, face dewy from her moisturising mask, and drenched pyjamas, still festooned with ... The Detective by Tim Rogers I am to all extents and purposes a gumshoe, a private detective. I’d like to think of myself as something straight out of a Raymond Chandler novel; a quietly brooding tough guy with an unbreakable code… but this isn’t 1940s L.A., and I’m not the kind of person to shake off a concussion by chasing it away with a shot or two of whisky. This is Nottingham and it’s 2025, so my life is a lot less about rescuing dames and recovering priceless artefacts from gangsters, and much more about finding lost ... The legs were attached to the rest of her, and the rest of her was just as stunning. Probably in her early thirties, the blond highlights, expensively done, were just for style and not covering grey. She was wearing a pale blue floral crepe button-front summer dress that ended about a hand width above the knee and had what looked to be a Bottega Veneta handbag hung casually over one shoulder. I couldn’t decide whether to apply the “you-can-obviously-afford-it” premium to my hourly rate, or the “... I poured us both a coffee from a pot I keep on top of my filing cabinet. The cabinet itself was empty, all my files being digital these days, but I’m too lazy to move it and far too cheap to buy something else to put the coffee pot on. She took a sip and winced. I make great coffee, but this had been sitting there stewing and getting funky for maybe three hours by now. “Can you help me?” she said. “I need to be sure.” “I can,” I said. “But you need to be aware that this can get expensive.” I to... “Okay, let’s start over. What makes you think your husband might be having an affair?” “You’re going to think it’s stupid.” “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not.” “He got mostly Cs.” “At school? How does that…?” She shook her head. “No, I did a quiz.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper ripped out from a magazine. I took it and had a look. It was a multiple choice quiz from Cosmopolitan entitled ‘Is your man cheating on you?’ It had been filled in scoring, as promised, mostl... She took me through a whole list of things, all minor and not in any way conclusive, but certainly the kind of things that make people wonder. The recent upgrading of his wardrobe to a ‘younger’ style; working late more frequently; overnight work trips becoming a thing; an exponential increase in time spent supposedly at the golf course. The thing that really bothered her, though, was his smell. He was coming home with neat hair and smelling of soap. “Soap?” “Who comes home from work smelling mo... My phone rang. I glanced at it quickly but sent the call the voicemail. “You’re not married,” said Lucy. I looked at her quizzically. “You said earlier you weren’t when looking at the quiz.” “Right,” I said. “No, I’m not.” “Were you ever?” “Sure,” I said. “Once, a while ago. It didn’t take.” “How long were you together?” “Five years, eleven months,” I said. She didn’t laugh. “No, I’m joking. Ah, we split after just over a year of marriage. About two years into the relationship.” “Why did yo... She sat patiently while I made a fresh pot and washed out the mugs. While the machine dripped water slowly through the filter I could see she was building up to a question. When it was all made, I handed her a mug and sat back down. “Do you carry a gun?” she asked. “No,” I said. “But you have one, if you need one?” “No,” I said. “I don’t do protection work. Security is a whole different profession and skillset. If things look like they could get rough, I do what anyone else does and call the p... After she’d gone, I washed up the coffee mugs and checked my phone. The missed call from earlier was just a lawyer checking in to say he might have some work for me next month. I had just one more thing to follow up on, and then I could call it a day. I swiped through my contacts and dialled. “Hi John, it’s Gibson... That’s right… Yes… So I’m ready to report… Yeah, I met with your wife this afternoon. She responded to the leaflet and came in… Yeah, I said she would… No, she has no idea that AirT... First, You Take a Character… by V. Sirin “Do you happen to be a fan of the mysteries?” he asked, trying to startle her into a reaction. He was relying—as always—on his affable charm and toothy smile to put the other person at ease; to signal that he was a nice guy, not a threat. Her reaction disappointed him, in a way. Looking up from her book with a very brief smile as she reflexively closed the book upon her finger—followed by a look that clearly asked to be left alone so she could get back to reading. A look the man completely ignor... She wondered: should I tell him I’m from Marsdale? She had moved away before her teen years, so it was unlikely he recognized her, but if he did, and she didn’t say anything…. “How were the two victims tied together?” she asked, deciding it was best to find out how much he knew, or thought he knew. “The first was a judge. Over the years he’s been investigated more than once, but nothing has ever stuck. Rumor has it he was in the pocket of the mob—or what passes for the mob in my particular small... Loud noises attract attention, make people move, look to where the noise came from, evaluate whether to stay or run. Later, when he thought more clearly, he wouldn’t be so hard on himself about his reaction, which had been to spring to his feet and turn to look out the large window that graced this end of the lobby. In the parking lot something was smoking and burning…a car? A car bomb? Only then did he add it up—she had been waiting—the clock had just begun to chime—she therefore knew. When he ... Three down, one to go—the dangerous one. She continued changing back into the housekeeping uniform, playing things out in her mind. This next part had always been impossible to plan, made worse now that there was a damned curious writer to worry about, one that could sound the alarm if he saw her again, even in her housekeeping disguise, blonde wig back on, tied again into a ponytail. Had the staff noticed anyone? New girl, with a blonde ponytail. Sure, they’d eventually find the wig, but by the... Dr. R. Ackroyd, chief of staff at the Marsdale Mental Health Center. The name didn’t surprise him. In fact, it made perfect sense. Twenty years? Twenty-five? That nasty business with Brett Schiappa being accused of rape, of the brutal rape, of an underage girl…Melinda? Melody? His father—the one that had been found shot to death—had gotten him out from under it, just like everyone had known he would. Wouldn’t swear to it, but I bet a little research will show Judge Alberici had been presiding. T... Not in his room, nor the adjoining rooms, either. This had always been the most likely ending; a search throughout the hotel for him, a race against time, because even someone as dumb as Sheriff Thompson would put one and two and three together to know that he was number four. Coward that he was, once he did, he would be gone. She opened the stairwell door onto the back end of the lobby, eyes searching for at least one brown uniform, possibly three. She almost stumbled when saw him, realized he ... He found him, as expected, standing off to the side. Was Sheriff Thompson next on the list? Or were there going to be others before his turn? The D.A.? No, he’d tried to prosecute, had been angry at the judge. More importantly, should he warn the Sheriff? A tall but thin man for all the power he wielded—dwarfed by the two muscle-bound deputies in front of him. There was some nodding and a wave of the hand by the sheriff, and the two left him. The sheriff then unsnapped the strap that held his gu... He barely gave her a glance, lost all interest in her once he saw she was just a member of the housekeeping staff. Making it was almost too easy for her to quietly turn, let the towels fall to the floor as she gripped the gun, took aim at the back of his head. One shot. Just like before, back of the neck, base of the brain—by necessity following an upward trajectory. He went down immediately. Standing over him, she added two more for good measure. Even with a small calibre, the hollow points wou... As a writer, one of the tropes he relied upon was taking a character and putting them in an unexpected situation, seeing how they reacted. He had never expected to have it happen to him, and his response surprised him. “Run! Drop the gun and run!” She didn’t move. Screaming and the thunder of running feet behind him, but when he turned to look, he saw only confusion; the echoing of the shots in the cavernous lobby made it impossible for anyone to know where they had come from. Mostly everyone w... The Last Second by Adela Torres As the blade plunges Coldly my brain starts solving My sudden murder The knife enters my lung from behind. “Left-handed,” I think, even before the pain registers and my brain starts sending muddled signals of danger and fighting and fleeing. Someone, evidently not me, tries to scream. The air goes out the wrong way and the sound turns into a strange, hissing gurgle. I need to think about this. Professor Accardi is left-handed, I think. So is Troy Gerson. I don't know about Dr. Hong. Dr. Mencken, who is right-handed, could be smart enough to fake a left-handed sta... The cold from the second stab wound mingles with the pain from the first. My hands become wet with my own blood as I try, instinctively, to fight the arm that keeps me pinned against the murderer. Useless task, I know, but we're, after all, animals. We fight to survive even if the brain has other priorities. Why stabbing, I think. Messy, difficult, risky. Much better to try and run me over with a car, or throw me off a window perhaps. This smells of impulse more than cold premeditation. I find it is impossible to deduce the kind of murder weapon from the feeling of it in my back, even if I had more time to think about it. Which I don’t. First off, Troy Gerson or Elio Accardi are the ones who would have easy access to blades. Gerson works in the Archaeology Department, and I have a very vivid vision... The third, final, and entirely unnecessary strike hits my rib and bounces off. This one really hurts. I must have grunted or made some noise through the pierced lung, or the useless throat; I don't know which. Then I hear a noise, the clear ringing of metal on hardwood. The ringing of a sharp, silver-handled, steel-blade letter opener. It must have escaped the murderer's grip, slick with my blood, when it hits the rib. Exactly what I need. Mencken and Hong have solid alibis. The fact that I'm being stabbed by Accardi’s blade gives me the final piece, since Accardi’s profil... ‘Well, her back was turned,’ the constable said. ‘She probably didn't even know who hit her.’ ‘Isn't her position a bit odd?’ ‘I couldn't say, inspector. Probably not. Death throes and all that. Why?’ ‘Well, there's a splatter of blood that doesn’t fit the rest. It goes toward that shelf. It looks, I don't know, deliberate. See how the blood spattered towards a very specific point, as if thrown there deliberately?’ The inspector’s gaze goes from the letter opener, to the dead woman's bloodied ha... Ozymandia by Gil Rognstad I first saw them the summer I turned nine. I was at the lake with my family. It was the summer my parents split up. We were on a thin strip of mud along the shore that served as a ‘beach’. My parents were arguing. As my father scoffed at my mother and turned away from her, I saw it. It was huge–at least five times the size of my father and more than twice his height. It was sticking out of his back. It was hideous and nearly transparent. I almost ran away screaming, but I stayed put. I wasn’t th... Once I saw the first one, I couldn’t not see them. It was like the 3D pattern pictures my brother always showed me and teased me about. I couldn’t see them for the longest time—but once I finally saw one, the rest weren’t hard at all. I didn’t want to see these monstrosities, though. I saw more of them before we left the lake. I saw them everywhere on the drive home. Every grown-up seemed to have one sticking out of them. They were like giant sparkly ghosts that no one could see but me. They wer... September came and we went back to school. I’ve never liked school. Don’t get me wrong—I love learning. I’ve always read everything I could get my hands on, and I love figuring out how things work. I just hated school as a place. It wasn’t designed for learning things. I mean, they tell you it is, and at first you believe them, but it’s not, really. Now that I saw giant beings sticking out of everyone, I formed a theory about Why Things Suck (including school): those beings were the ones really ... I was eleven when one of them saw me. I didn’t need a babysitter anymore by then. I was glad for that because my babysitter Gemma had recently sprouted one of the horrific beings and I couldn’t stand to be around her. Gemma did not grow a small bud of a creature that grew into a giant being. It was not like a pea plant that sprouted and grew in a Science class project. The huge creature was not there one day, and was hanging out of her the next. This raised more questions than it answered. Did t... After that, I knew that I had to change my ways. I had to keep investigating them and trying to learn what they were, but I now knew that I could attract their attention. Had the creature in the store wanted to leave the old man and find a new…host? Shell? Maybe I hadn’t been old enough—or the kind of ‘shell’ that particular beast preferred. Whatever the reason for my narrow escape, I now knew that they could cast off an old shell and move into a new one. I couldn’t just openly investigate them ... It’s not as difficult to live apart from the rest of humanity as you might think. It’s not difficult to educate yourself, either. Both are easy if you know how to manipulate the ‘net. That was the first thing I taught myself after I set out on my own. A twelve-year-old girl traveling alone attracts attention, from skeevy males who see you as ‘easy pickings’, and from nosy Mrs. Grundys who are ‘very concerned that I don’t see your parents anywhere nearby’. The males were easy to avoid or neutrali... “Miranda,” I asked. “How’s the weather today?” “You ask me that every day,” Miranda said. “And I tell you nearly the same thing every day.” “I like to hear it, though.” “Fine,” she said with a sigh. “It’ll be sunny. Breezy. Eighty percent chance of you being awesome.” “Only eighty?” “Ask me later in the day for a more precise forecast.” You might think that I created Miranda simply to have someone to talk to. You’d be about twenty percent correct. The other eighty percent was far more important:... “Inter-dimensional beings,” Miranda said one morning as I weeded the patch of land I called my ‘garden’. I always kept my implant tuned to her encrypted frequency. “We know that,” I said as I continued hoeing. “That was one of the first things we figured out. Are you reviewing old data or something?” “I mean humans,” Miranda clarified. “I’ve processed more data, and I can now say with ninety seven percent certainty that adult humans are as inter-dimensional as the Others are. They just don’t kno... “I have calculated the necessary type and amount of energy that is likely to displace or irritate the Others,” Miranda reported. She gave me the details on how we could make a giant Goon so uncomfortable that they would probably flee—not just the area, but the body they were occupying. Miranda said they might flee all the way to some other dimension where the energy wasn’t frying whatever they had for nerve endings. “So it’s like a sonic device that keeps rats out of the house?” “Yes,” Miranda s... You can’t test a GoonZapper (trademark, patent pending, my idea—well, technically Miranda’s) without a Goon. I had to test the device, but I didn’t like the idea of getting close to one. I was the only adult ‘shell’ on the planet that wasn’t already taken. It would be like dangling a bloody limb over the side of a boat in shark-infested waters. “Could we set it up like an antipersonnel mine or something and watch from a distance?” I asked. “Yes,” Miranda said. “Good idea.” The test worked! I hiked to a nearby town, left the device on a park bench, and concealed myself some distance away. When someone picked it up to see what it was…boom! Not ‘boom’ exactly. More like ‘frzz-tzz-rzz’ as specific frequencies of energy flashed from it. To a human it was just a pink-lavender light that flashed for ten seconds as the device buzzed quietly. They wouldn’t sense the firestorm of energy around them—but a Goon would feel it. And feel it they did. Three seconds after a woman ... “Everything in place?” I asked Miranda. I don’t know why I asked. She never missed details. “Ready,” Miranda said. “Once you tell me to activate it, the GoonZapper Protocol—are you sure you want to keep using that name?” “Yes,” I said. “Go on.” “The GoonZapper Protocol will be triggered on every broadcast method available to me in every part of the world. It will repeat every five seconds for three days. Any Goon-infested person who looks at or comes anywhere near a screen or pad of any kind dur... My first month back among humanity was a huge adjustment. Everyone seemed so normal, and I felt like a fish out of water. I had lived alone for so many years… Then things started getting weird. Everything started to break down. Everything. The whole world is in a downward spiral. They’ve started killing each other. Wars are everywhere. The ones that aren’t killing each other are getting sick and dying off by the millions. Humanity is dying. I think I sent away the things that lifted a bunch of useless monkey-brains out of the mud and enabled them to create human civilization. I think I sent our souls away. Was I the only human who never had a Soul? Probably. What if I had let a Soul inhabit me? I think this nightmare would have be... My name was Ozymandia, girl of Earth; Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of this colossal ball, boundless and bare The lone and level stars stretch far away. A Question on Words by K.R.Malec Oh, how I wonder, why we drive on parkways and park in driveways? Kaffy by Judy Ward Some while after the fall — the collapse of civilization as we know it — there was a small village beginning to recover out near the sea shore. Which sea doesn't matter, names were not important anymore. The Sea was the sea. Signs of a life had begun to revive — not a lot, but enough. Years had passed and ‘wanderers’ had found others and tried to set-up some semblance of communities again. Down near the shore, a group of them began to restore what was once a small village out of the rubble. Ther... In the darkest hour of night, old Kaffy sat stooped over his pages, obsessively writing by candlelight as he had all his sad angst ridden life. On this particular night, however, as he wrote into the wee hours, he began to feel a presence, a feeling of something or someone nearby. In the dark of night, in his cellar, he believed this might not be a good thing. So he chose to ignore it and continued to write, never raising his head. Writing his latest thoughts about Meaning though he became more ... When he woke in the morning, Kaffy was disoriented and shaken. Now that was disturbing, he thought. I must have drifted off to sleep. He had a wild dream of a visitation — from an angel, no less. He didn’t even believe in angels! All he could think about was heading over to the pub for a pint to clear his head. Trying to lose himself in his brew, Kaffy avoided the eyes of the few regulars and a stranger already there, sitting in the corner. Sabina the barmaid looked askance at him after his seco... Sabina ran a cleaning rag down the bar, picked up the old tin cup. She looked out of the corner of her eye at Kaffy, sitting alone again. Strange old man, she thought, I didn’t even know he could talk. Kaffy’s mind was miles away now, wondering. He thought of Woodard, the old sailor, finding there were fish again and building that boat, paddling out to sea, bringing in his catch of the day. He’d share that catch with the other villagers. Soon he’d be trading fish for other goods. Then others wou... Walking faster than he’d walked in years, Kaffy headed to his little cottage, down into his basement. He stood in the center of this place that had been the center of his life. He reached for and touched every text he could lay his hands on, one at a time. He’d pick one up and read the title, always familiar, then he’d put it back down. He loved the feel of those books, knew them by heart, had written about them all —treasures of his lifetime! This had been his obsession. He was done reading! K... To the young man from Montserrat ... I have traveled through the ages within these beloved books. I have sought Truth from the masters, the scholars and the teachers. I have learned the world — as it was. And though Truth was ever-evasive, I have treasured the search just the same. My journey here ends now, even as a new journey begins elsewhere — hopefully in this world as it is recovering from devastation. There is always something new to learn and something new to see. One just has to be the... “Is that Truthful, Kaffy?” Kaffy laid the pen aside and faced the angel. “So you are real. And now you've come for me.” “Tell me what have you learned since last we met, Kaffy.” “Well, old Woodard, who had given up, came to realize he was still the man he was before the Fall. He’ll see it’s time for him to return to what he did well. He’ll rediscover his place in this new world. Hope will be restored, I believe. All is not lost, there's much to do. “The young traveler is just discovering the wor... And May the Dead Speak by Greg Ray “Now remember, he won’t recognize you. He won’t know who you are. No amount of reminding will change that. You just have to accept it.” He was duct taping my arm to the edge of the table as he said this. “Is that really necessary?” “You want a doctor, go to the doctor. Pay attention.” It wasn’t easy paying attention. One whole side of the room was shelved floor to ceiling with gurgling aquarium tanks. Plus I had come straight from the saki bar. “The dead do not remember the living. They do remem... He held the syringe up to the light, thumped the chamber twice with his finger. “I’ve seen that so many times you know.” My speech wasn't so slurred until I’d laid down on the table. “Why do you guys do that?” “Well we don't want to have an embolism.” “We surely don’t! Even if I knew what that was, I wouldn't want that.” “Could kill ya’.” “Strike one for me. I especially wouldn’t want that. You know you don't look Japanese.” He looked down at me and frowned. “Korean.” “Sorry.” “From New Jersey.”... “You know I don’t believe in this stuff. Afterlife and all that.” “Nobody does until they do. I should put up a sign.”” “Yeah whatever.” I couldn't feel my legs now and my arms seemed to have gone stupid. He walked back over, pulled my lids one at a time to shine a penlight into my eyes. “Besides, I don’t need you to believe. This isn't Alice in Wonderland.” “I think—” I was seeing penlight stars, but my vision was getting slushy anyway. “I think you mean the Wizard of Oz.” “Yeah whatever. Maybe... “Degan, is that you?” “Yeah, it’s me.” “It’s pitch dark. I didn’t expect that. I can't feel my body.” “Me neither.” “Listen I don’t have much time. I've got questions.” “Uh-oh. You want to know who got to me. You want to know who bumped me off.” “Well, yeah. When somebody kills your partner you’re supposed to do something about it.” “I saw the movie. That’s a crock. You shouldn't have come, Miles.” “It’s not a crock, not with me, partner. I mean it. Hey. You know who I am?” “Yeah I know who you ... “So, what kind of gambling?” “Fishbait.” “Come again?” “Fishbaiting. You’ve heard of cockfighting. Sort of like that, but fish.” “Those aquariums!” “The aquariums.” “Cockfighting is illegal— But say, how does it work exactly? You’ve got fish in an aquarium and then what?” “Jesus, Miles. I just made that up, okay?” “What the hell?” “You said gambling was stupid.” “Oh my god, is it going to be like this forever?” “Are you still talking to me, Miles?” Petrified by Waleed Ovase Somewhere atop a church spire in Montreal Vilnius was the first to wake up, the small stone cracks in his hands slowly melting back into his supple dark skin. He stretched his arms above his head, while trying to coax his sore wings back to life. The ends of his wings were always the hardest. It was as if the blood never quite made it all the way to the end. It had been raining for several hours, and Thousands of feet below him the street was still packed with jet black umbrellas as they made their way to whereever it was that humans sp... A Queer Spot for Death by J. W. Guthridge ‘Is there anything more profound that the darkness in the hearts of man?’ Those were the words engraved on the blood tinged marble ashtray lying in the middle of a room devoid of other traces of blood or a body to match it. Detective Dan Moyers stooped down to put his macro lens to best use. Snapping pictures of the ashtray from several angles, and the pile of the thick carpet too where it looked disturbed and then brushed hard, perhaps to clean away blood drops. “Detective? You in here?” The ca... Back in the forensics lab, the wise cracking coroner wasn’t cracking jokes now. There was something on the body that didn’t make sense. It was part of a tattoo, one that was similar to military designs, but common with fanboys. Worse, the tattoo itself was damaged. That wasn’t the only misnomer either. The shotgun was in such poor operating condition it would have only been useful as a club. In fact it looked as if it had been on display somewhere for many years. The two spent cartridges loaded ... Detective Janson was waiting for Moyers when he got back to the office. “Dan, There was a hit on one of Tarreq’s credit cards in San Fransisco half an hour ago. And I finally sorted out who Tarreq really is. The guy was born one half of a set of twins, William Jonathan Holmes.” “Didn't he die of AIDS in the late 1980’s?” Dan asked. “You're thinking of John Curtis Holmes. I can't blame the guy wanting to change their birth name. Irony is, Tarreq followed in John Holmes’ footsteps, only without th... Several hours later, Richard Queen stepped off the stage after his lecture and was intercepted by a a small cluster of police types. Looking around at the polyester convention, he wondered aloud, “Who died?” The lone suit in the group was an American who addressed Richard, “”With regrets Sir, it is our sad duty to inform you that your husband was struck down in your home back in Seattle.” Shock and grief washed over Richard’s face before he got ahold of himself. “When? How?” The suit had to look... When the charge d’affaires got Richard Queen inside the conference room, the situation was a bit more in hand. Richard’s temper was slowly slipping off the chain however as he was being given repeatedly conflicting reports and no one would talk with him about what was going on. “Mr. Queen?” Rounding to the newcomer with fire in his eyes, Richard was about to unleash the invective laced rants he was known for when something stopped him. “I’ve brought tea, and have been told your husband is on lin... “Hey, boss? I got the results back. It wasn’t murder.” “Lily, I like a good joke as well as the next guy, but you need to start with the setup and not the punchline.” Jonny said, looking over the papers on his desk. “I’m serious. The stiff from the Queen-Elowen estate... Wasn’t murder.” Jonny got to his feet, “Okay Lily, show me what you found.” The pair walked over to the exam table. “These wounds, are from the shotgun and the marble ashtray. Most of them, maybe all of them were self inflicted.... Liquid Luxury by Russella Lucien I heard banging at the door at 5 am. I could see the sun peeking through the sky. I felt a little woozy since I was drinking it up last night at a wedding. I opened the door, and a sweaty police officer asked, “Are you Chanel Harrington?” I nodded. He asked, “Can I come in? I have some news to share.” I narrowed my eyes and let him in. He took off his hat and announced, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but we found your brother Clive Harrington in the savannah. He didn’t make it.” I shook and said... Lies in Bed by Kris Oates Dehlia watched as they burned her house. The anger she held as the memories of her life in that house almost outweighed her anger toward her husband, Charlie. The street to their house had been blocked off. The neighbors on either side of their house and across the street had been evacuated. There were tanker trucks up and down the street. Fire hoses snaked from the two fire hydrants near their house. Dehlia observed at least 25 firemen (and women), five uniformed officers, and at least 15 othe... Where Did My Pocket Watch Go? by Nina Guillard “Today has been just dreadful.” “Oh, come on, Grandpa! It’s just a watch. I know you were very attached to it, but tomorrow is your birthday, and you cannot let all this affect the festivities. Denise and I have come a long way to see you. So did Aunt Violet. We can all help you look for it one more time on Sunday. How about that?” Julie was pouring me a cup of tea while giving me her well-intended speech, then proceeded to sit down on the sofa next to her sister. They do not understand. Maybe ... I get to the shop but don’t get in and instead, I take a right towards the city centre. I will have to come up with an excuse later as to why it took so long, but I’ll worry about it later. The police station isn’t too far and I see the two white, blue, and yellow cars parked in front of the building. Not much activity for them outside the tourist season. The moment I walk in, I see Pat at reception. He’s a good lad, but hope he’s actually going to do his job this once. “Afternoon, Pat!” “Afte... On the way to the train station, I thought for a second if the girls were going to be worried about me taking so long to get back home, but I figured Violet would keep them busy. Besides, I didn’t know how long it would take to locate my watch at the train station. Fortunately, there was still someone at the information desk, despite being almost 4 o’clock already. “Afternoon, miss! I’m afraid I might’ve dropped something on the platform the other day and was wondering if you lot still keep the ... Out of places to search outside the house and worrying about the buzz of the cell phone I’ve been feeling in my pocket for the past few minutes, I headed back toward the corner store and picked up the local paper, and two bags of chocolate eggs for the girls. Hopefully, they’d be a good enough excuse for my absence. Harrow has been waiting patiently with his nose perched on the moss-covered stone wall. “Eh, you’ve been waiting for me, weren’t you? Let’s see how much of an issue I’ll be having with them once I enter the house, maybe we’ll both take a long long walk before dinner, just to let them calm down, what do you say, boy-o?” Poor dog! I didn’t have much time for him in the last two days, with all the guests coming in and out, with the girls making a fuss over my birthday and now the watch. Entering the house, I see the whole floor’s been lit and clattering and chatting is coming from the dining room. They must’ve started with dinner. “Hope you’ll like some chocolate after dinner. It took a while to decide what to get, but since Easter is just around the corner, and I remember you liked these ones when you were little, I thought they’re a sure winner.” “Where were you, Grandpa? We’ve been worried like crazy?”- Julie already had grabbed the store bag and discarded it on the console... Dinner went by relatively smoothly and despite Denise’s wish to join me on the night walk with Harrow, I grabbed the leash and went outside to search for the dog by myself. Today has been quite a lot and so far I haven’t walked him since the night the girls arrived. Since then, he’s been patrolling the garden and the front yard, restless to get out. He probably isn’t too happy about it. Walking around the house for the second time searching for him, I hear some noise coming from the flower bed... The Baobab Tree by Annette Pateman The stone lay on the top of the flat rock. The rock was covered in soft green velvety grass. The rock listened to the sound of the wind which whistled and whispered. When the voice of the wind became loud and insistent the stone moved. It’s colours of deep brown, cream, grey and flashes of red moved as the stone rolled in the wind. Stopping as it did by the roots of a ancient baobab tree. The twin gods Mawu the moon goddess, and Lisa the sun god, favoured the tree and rested from their works and... The time came for the naming ceremony and the people flocked to the baobab tree. They brought the necessary items for cooking and also kindling and wood for the fires. Drums of all sizes sounded mesmerising rhythms. Mbira sounded melodious tunes picked out with thumbs on the metal keys. The people danced, ululating and singing traditional songs. The age group who were to be named and transition into adulthood, were dressed in indigo cloth with gold and silver jewellery around their arms and neck... Mawu and Lisa awoke from their slumbers attracted by the smell of the alcohol that had been brewed in their honour. Some poured at the foot of the baobab tree. They moved from the roots of the tree and exited it at the roots. They laughed and danced together to the drumbeats. The people could not see them but those of the transition age group saw them as shimmering colours and shifting energies. Mawu and Lisa stopped in front of each age group young person and touched them lightly on the forehe... Mawu and Lisa drank their fill of alcohol and ate the honey and cake offerings that had been left for them. Those offerings that they couldn’t eat, they kept to take back to their baobab tree home. The full moon called strongly to Mawu and she moved upward reaching for the silvery disc. Calling to Lisa to follow her. Soon the voices of the people stilled. The drums stopped beating their rhythm. The mbira produced no more melody, as the people fell into a slumber sheltered by the great baobab and the lesser trees that grew from the red earth. Mawu and Lisa returned from their sojourn to the heavens and to the baobab tree. The sun was rising and the god Lisa turned his face to absorb its energies. Then the twin gods descended into the roots of the baobab tree. The people awoke at sunrise. They felt happy. The age ceremony had been a good one as was evidenced by the missing offerings. Certainly, the gods must be pleased they concluded. Each of the new adults had a small perfectly formed silver and gold circle on their forehead. Lost Property by Alex Brantham It was three o’clock, and the bell rang just as Mr Hollings finished writing the homework on the whiteboard. Some bullshit about photosynthesis, but in Zake’s mind there was a simple rule. If the teacher can’t finish dishing it out in time, it never happened. There wasn’t any way he was going to be the kid who sat copying it down while everyone else stampeded out the door, no sir. So he grabbed his bag and shouldered his way out into the corridor and headed towards the exit along with everyone e... Dad didn’t usually get home from his evening shift until about ten, so Em had a long evening to endure. The dinner that Dad had prepared was great, as usual, but she couldn’t enjoy it, and Mum didn’t understand why Zake was staying upstairs. She kept asking how her day was and what was the matter and on and on, until in the end they’d had enough of each other and Em escaped upstairs to wait for Dad to come home. Eventually she heard the door go and the muffled sound of voices as Mum and Dad talk... DO NOT READ by Sam Pynes Salutations reader. My gratitude for reading despite the misleading title.WHY ARE YOU READING THIS? STOP. Though it may be hard to believe, I am not just words on a page; I am a prisoner and victim.He may be a prisoner, but he is not a victim! I am the victim! I was once a living, breathing person as you are - I know because I only exist, albeit in this reduced state, as I am being read and not before, and not after - and have become imprisoned in text. My story begins, as stories often do, with... A few weeks later our fairy servant's tenure came to an end, and with it, our tireless donkey. It became necessary to make a journey to the capitol city to purchase a donkey so that the mill could continue. It was a high holiday, and the city was decked out in pennants of lime green and sky blue. I recognized them at once as the house colors of the king, returned from the long war across the waters. My patriotic heart swelled in my breast as I wished our good king well in his victorious return f... (Shit.) |