The first time it had happened, and he’d really seen her, he’d been trawling the pools, tracing his knuckles over crusted rocks, trailing his fingers in the water. Continue reading Deep Marks by Ali Jones
Tag Archives: fiction
Sundown Town by Richard Wayne Horton
Playground by Scáth Beorh
Ambushed by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon
The last few miles are always the hardest. I hate coming here but once the decision’s made I try to be positive. She’s old, after all. And, she is my mother. Continue reading Ambushed by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon
Rue of Maiorum by Annie Blake
for Ehrlich
i wanted my life to live i noticed her green cat eyes her arms had been scratched by the sun thin like sucked meat of slither of bone swathes lifted onto the loft my life in no particular succession for i’m in atonement for my rendition Continue reading Rue of Maiorum by Annie Blake
Ambleside by Tim Fellows
The old man leaned on the wall and looked at the house. It was, he had to admit, not the prettiest house. Continue reading Ambleside by Tim Fellows
Eddie by Danielle Matthews
The jar of pennies made a disconsolate rattle as it disgorged its contents onto the threadbare carpet. He counted them quickly, and thick black eyebrows knitted together in a frown. Not enough. Continue reading Eddie by Danielle Matthews
Refusing Oblivion by Richard Manly Heiman
A blown-up tintype covers one library wall. This is what the school looked like in 1885, I say, that year in history when— Continue reading Refusing Oblivion by Richard Manly Heiman
One Night By The River by p.a. morbid
The moonlight spread on the river like spilled milk, while the moon itself had a buttery coolness. They came along the river path, their hunger sated on a lonely drunk they’d found among the ghosts of St. Hilda’s, the old, dead centre of Middlesbrough. Continue reading One Night By The River by p.a. morbid
Taps by DC Diamondopolous
Peter crouched in front of the attic window and gazed down on old man Mueller’s cornfield. The plow, unhitched beyond the stalks, turned north like he meant to continue but got interrupted. Continue reading Taps by DC Diamondopolous
Jimmy’s Going Places by James H Duncan
The basement office is where Jimmy spent the last hour of his day, not because he was busy filling out all his work orders or safety checklists, but because he knew his boss almost always left after lunch and didn’t come back till morning. Continue reading Jimmy’s Going Places by James H Duncan
Shared Bodily Warmth by Thomas Tyrrell
Few things are bleaker than Dartmoor when the winter nights draw in like wolves around a campfire. Continue reading Shared Bodily Warmth by Thomas Tyrrell