Tolerance by Monica Dickson
“De-liz-ee-oh-so” you gush, cod-Italian dripping from your treacherous lips. You lick your fingers one by one for emphasis, an erotic parody. I give a warm, spicy smile. “Just a little something I…
“De-liz-ee-oh-so” you gush, cod-Italian dripping from your treacherous lips. You lick your fingers one by one for emphasis, an erotic parody. I give a warm, spicy smile. “Just a little something I…
– 0 – You are born, in Scotland. In February. It is cold outside. And wet. Perhaps you shake and shiver, newly exposed to this strange world all at once. Perhaps, as…
[CW: Domestic abuse] When the full-time whistle blows, she knows the game has only just begun. She’s spent the last 90 minutes, feverishly praying for his side to win. She doesn’t believe…
When he returns home from the stone yard, as the shadows of dusk settle over the town, the baby is still there. The basket rests discreetly in a corner where her tiny…
“You should plan to have kids soon,” Aunt Sylvia said, hortatively. I drank the rest of my merlot, perspiration slowly building up between my small breasts and down my back. “Is it hot in…
‘Fucks sake!’ It smashed right onto his foot. Blood started to squirm out. A shard of the ceramic vase was protruding from him. He yelled out, mainly for his own release. But,…
– ACT I: SCENE 1 – (Michelangelo’s studio. Marble statues in various stages of completion line the walls. Apprentices and helpers scurry about with tools Lorenzo de’Medici, dressed in his finest regalia,…
Victor wiped the spittle from his mouth after another coughing fit and stared up at the tower. Alabaster white, it rose hundreds of feet in the air, a bastion of antiseptic purity…
The youth exists to be punctured and tickled by variously-sized needles. They are but feathers and make him strong as tides. He is untroubled by being someone else’s portfolio. Look at his…
Keys missing the lock, scraping. The house echoing darkness, dread seeping up the stairs. Crash! The front door banging back against the wall. A light flaring on. Budgie, singing. “Bloody fucking bird,…
Look at the girl. Yes, you. Look. She’s wrapped in beads from head to toe. Every bead is a raindrop gem, a gallery of portraits strung together with hope. Has she done…
I fling the front door open, hurrying through it to escape the swarm of feelings chasing me out of the house. I hasten the pace, hoping I can outrun them, lose them…