by V.A. Turner “Oh, my head,” Darena’th groaned as he opened his bloodshot sapphire blue eyes a bit, daylight spilling into his sleeping area from the open arched stone window frames and stabbing his brain like an icepick. He slowly lifted his broad alabaster white head on its long, thick…
by John Grey This is the first fridge, the first stove,that we took equal responsibility for. And this is the cutting boardwhere I sliced my finger dicing onions..That is the sink.The hot tap still provideslukewarm water.The cold tap is as advertised. And look.There’s the dusty bay windowand the hole through…
by Marah McCarty (This story contains themes of miscarriage.) Blood stains are on her fingers. Suppressing feelings, she moves methodically. Flush, turn on sink, scrub her hands clean. She is now only a series of dreams. She is no longer supposed to be observant to her heartbeat or the pull…