Saturday, April 18, 2015

In:

Rider in the storm by Stephanie Dragone

It was a dark and stormy night. Jim hunched up against the rear door of the taxi, his sombre face silhouetted in the gloom. The musty odours of past passengers, stale beer and french fries clung fretfully to his clothes. As a parent, he thought, I have nurtured and loved my children. Yet here I am, lonely, abandoned, returning once again to the house of horrors. Not revenge but death with dignity, he repeated in his head. His arthritic hand clutched...
Thursday, April 16, 2015

In:

I remember by Pete Mawhinney

Chatting with the checkout chick as I unload my basket full of groceries, I mention that I only came in for milk. How many times has she heard that? Shit, I didn’t get any milk. Dashing back to the dairy fridge, as always at the bloody back of the stupormarket, I bump into an old flame I haven’t seen in years. ‘Hi.’ ‘Hi Geoff, how’re you?’ Shit, she remembers my name and I’ve got nuthin’. Sometimes I swear my poor memory for names is a form of performance...
Thursday, April 16, 2015

In:

The Essay by Michelle Sadler

    The leaves have fallen off the trees of knowledge as if the arrival of autumn had long past. They have blown around in winter rains and got stuck haphazardly in the muck. Confusion has imploded and I feel dejected. As I shower my physical form, I contemplate the now clear sky and wish for inspiration.  Just as I become conscious of this line of thought, I visualize the words becoming unstuck and rising, evaporating into the...