
Mary Casts a Shadow on the Ground by Maureen O’Leary
Work for enough to live on so that you pass as human. This isn’t a supernatural story. You are a human being. Human is your species. You walk along the streets of…
Work for enough to live on so that you pass as human. This isn’t a supernatural story. You are a human being. Human is your species. You walk along the streets of…
Breffni didn’t like the treasure hunt worksheets handed out to children at museums. He preferred to look at the exhibits himself and learn what he could from being close to them. He…
The couple who lives next door to us owns their home, while my boyfriend and I are renting. We pay 2,000 a month for the second floor of a duplex. Their house…
He told her he had news and let’s get away to Rhode Island. He told her he wanted the news to be separate from the rest of their lives. They took the…
It was cloudy and he used his chopsticks the proper way, so we believed him; the way you do when someone knows the difference between holding them to separate pickle from broth…
Mr. Hendrick is watching me. “Work faster, girl!” he bellows over the clack-clack of the looms. I heap loose fibres into the sack, just like every day, and hold my misery tightly…
‘What’s he saying?’ ‘He’s telling us to take care where we walk. There are wild orchids in the lawn. See.’ She raised an ironic eyebrow and pointed with the toe of her…
Sometimes she remembers the swimsuit being green, old-fashioned ruched cotton, sandy round the bottom. Other times it is mustard yellow or blue. Sometimes the sun is so bright she has to hold…
That summer we created a new genre of living. We grew like cloudberries in the wilderness of secret locations. The ratio of you to me and me to you leaned with the…
The zombie food delivery worker pedalled his bike furiously through the traffic, dodging between snarling cars and seething trucks. The glare from their headlights bounced off the hi-vis jacket the company made…
Sister Agulíne’s joints informed her it was raining just before her ears confirmed the fact. She’d inherited the gouted tree trunk ankles of her grandmother, a woman born in the nineteenth century.…
A) The History of a GestureAfter the machines come back from the construction site, moving through dusk, the bereft moon tumbling after them, someone blinks the lights, someone guns an engine. The…