The Columbine Pilgrim: Prologue, Part 1

My name is Tony Meander, and I am a Columbineoholic. Does that sound corny? Like I’m trying too hard to be clever? Aren’t all of these “-oholic”…


Birds in a Gilded Cage

The flames danced and bobbed, twin lights fighting for dominance in the darkened chamber. The great lady sat, unattended, in the corner. Mercifully…


The Islands Tell of It, Chapter 8: Emergency Interrupts

The farmhouse, an American saltbox-style two-story, appeared to have had a significant facelift. The light celery-green paint job with stark white…


Tap Tap

Chris Curtis woke up on a lovely Christmas Day in his lovely and warm terraced house. He was twelve years old, as he had been for the last 30 years.…


The Chain Forged in Life

The man watched as Bob crammed the remainder of his hamburger into his mouth and switched on the television. He knew Bob was thinking there was…


“Black Taisui” by Oobmab

translated by Arthur Meursault Residents of Qingdao or attentive followers of local news may have heard of the affair I wish to discuss. On the 14th…


Remembering the Catman, Part 2

III. Santa, or the catman, was sitting on the wooden bench three days after our first meeting, when Mother and I were coming back from the post…


The Islands Tell of It, Chapter 7: Althea’s Run

Althea Roberts, to anyone who would first lay eyes on her, was an African-American beauty possessing a high caliber of physical attributes bestowed…


Donut Shop

The small motorbike pulled into the lot behind the building. The engine rumbled softly as it came to a halt along the rows of abandoned cars.…


End of the Line

Tommy Hartford ran the trains, and had done so his entire life. As had his father, and his father, and even his grandfather before him. He was 16…