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celia by rebecca milne
“Follow me,” she whispered. I could not see any of her facial features as she grabbed my arm and I followed along behind her. Her boots, cloak and hat were all caught or attached to each other, not that she minded of course because she led me down the misty alley and we took an…
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Sad Songs on Road Trips By A.J. Flanagan
A young woman, staring. Not at anything in particular, not up, and not too deep into nothing, but staring with blank, unfocused eyes somewhere near an open door. Spotlights flashing across her eyes, shifting, pulsating, shine against the rest of her, which is darkened by the night time, by the rest of the bar’s lights,…
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Picket Fangs, by Rebecca Boyes
Peggy awoke to the rumbling of a car and a bitter wind on her face. Opening her heavy eyes, she was greeted by the sight of stars up above. Her head rested at a painful angle on the top of the seat, nothing but the bright red of the convertible car chassis behind her. She…
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The Dick of Pinemort House, by Bel Briar
Most law schools don’t teach you the best ways to get yourself out of a polite kidnapping. Nor do they teach you how to negotiate with fish-head sailors for chum, or the etiquette of dining with the deceased. Oh no, in my experience, it was very much more about keeping your nails clean, your clothes…
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