Monthly Archives: January 2013
CROSSOVER by Cecelia Chapman
Skin Seeker by Lily Childs
Shake Moves On by Pamila Payne
The corpse at the bottom of the pool lies on her back, illuminated like a ceramic mermaid decorating an aquarium. Her serene face tips up, seeking the surface twelve feet above. Her pale, naked limbs look longer than they should, distorted through the water’s strange lens. Her lurid red hair gently snakes out from her head like seaweed. As the Continue reading Shake Moves On by Pamila Payne
Grub by A J Humpage
It burned on his tongue and scraped down his throat, leaving behind a deep, smoky aftertaste. The heat exploded in his stomach, made him cough.
Chris Grogan refilled his glass and found his voice above the music in the next room. ‘That’s some serious shit.’
Requiem by Katy O’Dowd
‘I will miss you.’
‘So you have said.’
‘Do you have to go?’
‘Will you come back to warm an old man’s bed again?’
Lacrimosa’s heart, supposing she had one, felt suspiciously heavy. She didn’t like the feeling. He was just another conquest after all.
‘Then come. Time grows near and we have taken too much of it already when we should have been preparing.’ Continue reading Requiem by Katy O’Dowd
In the Pines by Jodi MacArthur
The snow falls soft and red in the pines, as does the knife from my hands. The moon sings above the frost and layered mist. I look at the blood on my hands still warm, now cooling, and I shiver. I feel sore, tense, as if I’d just ran for my life or fought off King Kong, but I am uninjured. The blood splattered on my WICKED WOMAN tee and the Continue reading In the Pines by Jodi MacArthur
The Fog by Carrie Clevenger
The sentry chopper turned away as we drew nearer, leaving us with only the sound of the poisonous wind as it whistled through the open windows and the squeak of old U-joints underneath the bus. The fog was thicker here, and I tightened the straps on my gas mask, praying silently it would last long enough for me to help make the stand.
Buttercup by Julia Madeleine
I met her on the ferry heading to Victoria Island. She was alone, standing by the railing snapping pictures of the scenery. A girl in a ruffled skirt, early twenties, dark hair spilling in exquisite curls down the back of her denim jacket, pale legs smooth as ivory in the afternoon sun. She was an obvious tourist.
Of course I approached her. Was never one to let an opportunity pass me by, especially when it fell into my lap.
“ Continue reading Buttercup by Julia Madeleine
Awake by Mav Skye
If it feels too good to be true, it is.