Spade, Rose and Blood by Paul Matts

She’s roaming the street in the very early hours of a wet English morning in August. Just like me. I crouch down. She stands still. Suspicious. Unsure. Doubting. Lost. Fed up. All the same emotions I have. I approach her. She backs off. I’ve decided she’s a lady. She remains still, her coat dripping in…

A Change In Platforms by John Patrick Robbins

One day the rich will get tired of having to view the poor.  And in turn build large platforms over decaying cities to totally block them from view. So they won’t have to share the sun and can literally piss upon the poor.  They will never have to think of those less fortunate and the…

A short history of a universe in fold theory by James Walton

Cater is sixth generation.  The first messages took six months. It is now two hours. They are close. All droning work was finished, the machinery locked away in the preservation bay. The maintenance schedule has its own pace, a litany of processes now closer to manual control. The most interesting event is the daily air…

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL BY BEAU JOHNSON

New plan: find a better class of man. This is what’s going on under my extensions as Renee’s “friend” levels his gun at my head.  Well okay, there’s a little bit more to it than that, I suppose, but stuff such as this is meant to come with the territory, no?  Instead I have what…

Mr Whatever, Denise And Me by Ian Lewis Copestick

It must be getting on for 20 years ago now, but I’ll never forget it. I’d just been to score some smack, there was a McDonald’s not far from the dealer’s house so I decided to get a burger and a coffee before I got a taxi home. As I left the McDonald’s I heard…

The Bayou Boobie Blues By Jesse “Heels” Rawlins

An hour after sunrise. And I didn’t smell my finest. I tugged the jangling door to Cajun Queen Cafe—and a blast of sharp AC jammed the stink thru my nose—square into my brain. But hey, not my fault. I’d spent the dim wee hours tossing Ezekiel Daniel Boone (in hearty twelve-inch-chunks) to a brood of…

The Bear By Gareth Spark

A Polar Bear roamed one night in the woods behind Whitby. Here’s the story: the explorer Scoresby brought a bear cub back from one of his travels to the frozen north and chained the beast beneath Spital Bridge where it grew fat on a diet of captured seagulls, fish heads and whatever stray critters it…

LITTLE PRETTY DEATHS BY LARAMORE BLACK

Whiskey is the only sweetener for the coffee in the kitchen. A drink of the person with nerves returning from an edge, but not quite ready to be absorbed by sleep. They think back to earlier in the evening, about how the shadows switched places with the light repeatedly. As if there were no measurable…

Taco Truck By Nick Kolakowski

  She doesn’t look like much, Jesus sometimes mused, but she gets us through. Under his baby’s dented hood roared a Chevy 350 V8 capable of zero to sixty in a blistering twenty seconds, provided you pointed her down a steep hill before you hit the gas. Inside the onboard kitchen, the exhaust fan hacked…

The Weather Prophet by Paul D. Brazill

It had been another one of those seemingly endless days when, like King Midas in reverse, everything I touched turned to shit. True, cold calling was a thankless and futile task at the best of times. In fact, most people in the company hated it but me, well, I just seemed to have a knack for it. A…