Rusty the Crab by Michael Grant Smith
On Friday afternoon, after our boss left early for the weekend, Rusty pretended to be a crab. He shuffled sideways throughout the office; head down, bowlegged, fingers stuck together into…
On Friday afternoon, after our boss left early for the weekend, Rusty pretended to be a crab. He shuffled sideways throughout the office; head down, bowlegged, fingers stuck together into…
Tina found the dogeared letter at the bottom of Lily’s bag under pencil shavings and a reading book about kittens. As they’d all waited for their children in the playground,…
Davide Duvalier Dimitrov felt like a king when he flew. He prided himself on his success. His father told him hard work pays off, but Davide watched his dad break…
[CW: Reference to infertility] Tiger Mum is at yoga with Buffalo Mum. Tiger Mum glides through chathuranga to upward dog, feeling her sleek muscles ripple under her animal-print tights. They…
Hydration is not your problem. You have water in plastic cups and hot syrupy tea presented by nurses, your partner, parents, friends. Exposure is a problem. Build a shelter out…
Pushing open the door to the Brazilia bar Marcia licks her chapped lips, tasting already the Caipirinhas’ sweet sugar and sour lime luring her into the kick of Cachaças. She…
In one corner of the laboratory/kitchen, my mother folds a story into her grandson’s heart. Their heads touch, chests moving in a synchronous, shared breath. My son, Egonia, adjusts his…
The last time I ever saw Billy he stood on my porch scrawny as a coyote. It was morning, but already the late August sun was up there in the…
The trolley collector does not just collect trolleys. He pockets items left inside them: baby socks, stuffed animals, umbrellas, checked handkerchiefs. He scrap-books shopping lists scrawled on the backs of…
You must forget: … Biography: Emma Venables’ short and flash fiction has been widely published in magazines and journals. She has a PhD in Creative Writing and has taught at…
Mia looked at Sandy’s face in the mirror on the bedroom wall. Sandy held the curling iron for a twenty count on her bangs. Mia could see her friend’s lips…
Peggy’s transistor radio stands alone on the high windowsill. The rasping voice of the presenter echoes through the ward. He interviews housewives about the price of groceries, and politicians about…