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Category: Stories

  • I Can Show You Baby

    I sit in the bathtub my mother gave birth to me in and tuck my knees to my chest. It’s the kind of bathtub that has little feet. The room is small and echoing; my heartbeat clunks in my forehead. I once watched something on TV about a woman who said she remembered being born.…

  • Vixen

    The morning after I hit the fox, I woke up with a screaming headache. My wife was shuffling around the kitchen, closing the windows and curtains, covering her ears.  “Can’t you hear it?” she said. “The moaning?” I stopped and listened, but all I could hear was the throb of my pulse in my head,…

  • Yellow Gifts

    I wallow home from the nearby café, my pancake belly leading, my sausage belly thudding with each step, my eggs over easy belly yoking my intestines, liver, kidneys, in grease—solid, thick, yellow. Crow follows me in the rain, cawing. When I stop for a break to catch my breath, he perches on a low oak…

  • Acts of Service

    It was my forty-first birthday and I was angry. Out for blood. My husband Del had given me a knife and a pillow, gifts that proved he’d been paying attention.  The gifts were wrapped in shiny paper and skillfully tied with matching silk ribbons. Wrapped by some sales associate, I imagined. Some young woman who…

  • Where all things are forgot

    They led a half dozen of us into the sacristy and told us that the world had ended. It was the pastor, the deacon, and a couple of the Eucharistic ministers, and they were passing a very official looking letter back and forth between them as they spoke. It was clear they were trying to…

  • He Within

    The day he gets the tattoo changes everything. He hasn’t stolen the book. All the matron has to do is call the librarian, who loaned it to him—without a card—knowing how much he loves reading. Instead, she accuses him of theft. When he refuses to confess, she resorts to her preferred punishment: whacking the insides…

  • Drift

    There was a spot of blood on the dog’s right ear. Scout, Sheila’s pride and joy, was so unnerved by her erratic driving that his little body flitted about only long enough for her to notice the red dot in her rearview mirror, but not long enough for her to snatch him up and examine…

  • Jenny Greenteeth

    It was 20 May 2024, and a third dead child was discovered. Another girl. This time, down at the River Kelvin, near the art galleries. Like the two before, the body had been found at the verges. DC Helena Hamilton had no doubt that this poor wee soul’s demise would mirror the two innocents before:…

  • Rainmaker

    “‘I do not make rain. What I do is attract clouds.’ That’s what he said.” 1914, thought Agnes, had been a very bad year—but 1915 was already shaping up to be worse. San Diego was parched, a desiccated patch of desert on the California coast. Too long the city had thirsted for rain that never…

  • Walk It Forward

    An ex-boyfriend writes me a PM on Facebook. He says I seem to have changed. Can we maybe talk? Can we maybe try to revive a sort of friendship? Of course I’ve changed. It’s been twenty years since I became the dumpsite of his emotions, since I was the one to give him a drumroll,…

  • The Highway Nanny

    I was idling at a red light at Mission and Western, a juncture where you could slip away from your life entirely and drive up the wild coast into the potential of ultimate freedom or make a left and then a right and end up at the gym. Each day since the inception of motherhood…

  • Skin Rips

    In the morning, she wakes up, gets out of bed, washes her hair, brushes her teeth. She fixes bran flakes with almond milk, leaves some biscuits out for the neighbour’s cat, puts on her skin and leaves for work. On her way out of the front door, she closes it then checks the handle three…