Waves by Anna Ascott
It’s the middle of the afternoon, the sun hotter and harder than I’m used to, and Kay and I are aboard the Manly ferry. We separate soon: she wants to…
Ellipsis Zine
Bruised Vanilla by Adam Lock
Her red dress had lain hidden at the bottom of the laundry basket. When she’d asked him to return it, he wasn’t lying about not knowing its whereabouts. Glancing sideways…
Until You Peel Back the Bark by Elaine Dillon
Mike strides out into the bush. Alternately swishing at palm fronds and slapping at mosquitoes, he reminds me with every movement, every huff of breath, that it was my idea…
F is For Flower by Patti Jurinski
My reflection in the flower shop window startled me. The scowl, five o’clock shadow (now more hobo than hip), and bags under my eyes weren’t mine and were not a…
The Smell by Hank Shepherd
Helen stands up with a quizzical look on her face. “Do you smell that?” She takes one whiff. Two. “I smell something.” The turkey sandwich’s dry. Needs something. “What?” “There’s–”…
Vixen and Dog by Meriel Harrison
Last year the foxes came back to our garden. The roof of the little shed had rotted and fallen in, but the floor was still intact and two litters were…
Them and Us by Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar
I shook my husband awake and hurried downstairs to answer the door on Saturday morning at 7 AM. I knew they were coming. They stood at the door smiling: the…
A Choral Chrysalis by Eric Andrew Newman
The bright white blades of light slice through the spaces between the slats of the blinds and fall to the floor. I am not blind. I watch as the shards…
Simulacra by Aeryn Rudel
Ice and a snow weren’t the best material for the task, but Jason didn’t have much else to work with. He could cobble something together from the shattered concrete and…
Perfect Conditions by CR Smith
We drive past built-up areas, past mountains, past white-coated plains, to a place where light pollution is merely a rumour. An eerie stillness greets us as we disembark. The sky…
Still Life by Rachel Smith
For a year my friend paints only vegetables. While I work on alpine landscapes she traces the fine hairs on a runner bean. I drop by one day, uninvited, and…
Janet’s Dave by GJ Hart
Janet was not surprised – it was no stranger than a city stinking of finfolk or gamayuns over St. Mattan’s. Since Dave’s departure, she woke each morning to the intricate…