The Children by Emily Harrison

I was damp and tired when he finally showed up – August rain in the Dales is anything but fresh.

Post Office Delivery by Jennifer Ruth Jackson

+++“Did you get me some of the new holiday stamps?” Rebecca asked Jim, eyeing the various packages he was toting into the house.

Remote Control by Jennifer Ruth Jackson

+++Pete stood at the foot of his little brother’s bed, clenching and unclenching his fists. Bits of wrapping paper still clung to his pajamas and sweat rolled into his narrowed eyes.

What in God’s Name? by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

Lottie laughed at his joke and he was startled. He had thought often about this strange girl and how he might get her attention. His moment of surprised pleasure was short lived as he watched her laughter turn hysterical and then to tears of pure grief.

Girl Who Spiralled by Amanda Oosthuizen

She woke up one morning and found the coccolith nestled in the palm of her left hand like a secret. When she tried to pick it off, it settled, winking mischievously.

Girl in a Borrowed Cloak by Amanda Oosthuizen

She has fallen from the sky into this dark room where powdery graphite smudges her fingers, where the diamonds scattering the floor cut her feet. And outside the tide clock pounds.

Ghost Towns by Madison McSweeney

+++Some places are all history.
+++I grew up in what some would call a dying town. I don’t think that was an especially apt descriptor – “dying” implies an end is near. My town wasn’t approaching any inevitable end-point – it was just stuck in time. A place with a deep past, but no future.

I Can Fix That by Samantha Curreli

+++++Loretta sat on her loft bed, scribbling lists of alliterations for her name in her journal.

Lovely Loretta
Lucky Loretta
Loony Loretta

The Afterlife by Bayveen O’Connell

+++++Ghosts are lifting my bones, sorting and weighing them. They are washing my femurs to hang curtains from, using my patellae as saucers.

Sundown Town by Richard Wayne Horton

+++++Those are big horses out front. Never seen horses like that. Course we’re your average tourists passing through. You get a bunch of us I bet.

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.

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