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Clothesline Murmurs by Cheryl Rebello
Mid-summer: If the clothes drying on the nylon ropes under their window have any veracity to convey, and they do, the man whose apartment window is directly opposite mine wears a lot of corduroys. It appears he owns a lot of solid, full-sleeve shirts to go with them. His wife, on the other hand, favours…
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Sanctuary by Ali Rowland
It’s so cold here. If I was at home I’d have to switch the heating on. She’d be calling me, nagging me, summoning me, until I did it, and made her a hot water bottle too while the house warmed up. She can’t stand the cold. She can’t stand any discomfort. And it’s my job…
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Before the Storm by Paul Hilding
The dogs and I don’t go as far as we used to. Instead of the half-mile jog to the mailboxes at the top of the road or sometimes to the river another half-mile beyond, it is all Cabo can do to limp alongside me for a few hundred yards. Loma stays close in the alfalfa…
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Blanket by Melissa Llanes Brownlee
Don’t let me be lonely she says, her arms cuddling her yellow blanket, her legs splayed underneath, painted toes peeking out, because it’s too hot to have a blanket, but she refuses to be without it, give me a hug she begs, her nails scratching the holey patches she’s made over the years, a comforting…
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Grandma Has Magical Powers by Wayne Fitzgerald McCray
“But I have another question?” Mack was again told to take his butt outside. To go take advantage of the beautiful day. Go get some fresh air. Go play. Go do something. She didn’t care where or what. Just as long as it wasn’t there. She needed a break from him. And at some point,…
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A Bit of the Night by Shome Dasgupta
A rocking in the wind – rattled windows and a tremor. From night came a turbulence so maddening that he closed his eyes and covered his ears. Maybe, if he shouted, the deafening sounds – its frightening clash would subside. So. He shouted, sitting on the kitchen floor with his legs crossed. The wood of…
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By the Radio by Letitia Payne
She hesitates before she places the phone to her ear. Always one to text or email but rarely one to call. He knew this well but rings anyway. She squeezes her eyes shut, and flecks of colour erupt across the backs of her eyelids.
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The Women in My Life by Tim Love
I’ve been on this park bench since the gates opened, trying to work out if the woman opposite is an old mother or a glamorous gran. Then the baby she’s holding cries, and she unbuttons her blouse to suckle it. I bow my head so she doesn’t think I’m staring. Her drinks can falls, which…
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Adopt by Zary Fekete
Lately, I’ve been scrolling through their pictures more and more. Pics of occasional trips to the beach. Instagram-ready shots of food or wine glasses.
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The Sun Kisses Them All by Joanna Garbutt
As I crawl out of my hiding place after the storm has passed, I realise I am alone. I shout, though my lips are chapped and stinging, and struggle to form the words as the harsh, cold air floods my throat. The winds have been intolerable the last few days, with drifts up to a…
WENSUM 