If I Could Be With You Tonight by Graham Wynd

The scene was perfect. Hollywood could not do it justice. A quiet house at the end of the lane. Two young people on their own. The baby they were sitting had been tucked in long ago, sleeping in chubby-fisted peace. And the scary movie – somewhat snowy despite all attempts to adjust the antenna –…

I am the Resurrection by John Bowie

Max’s Filipino Taxi Dancehall was a real shithole… And it didn’t have a dance floor. A stench came from piss that ran out the front door, down the street and to the beach outside. A make-shift urinal fixed to the bar-front meant they drank, pissed and worse without moving for days. It was a real…

All Due Respect e-Zine is BACK!

All Due Respect is one of the best and hippest indie noir publishers around. And it started out as an online e-zine back in 2010. The first pblished story was Methamphetamin and a Shotgun by Alec Cizak. Over the years they published stories from writers as diverse as Tom Pitts, Eric Beetner, and the late…

Fear by Marvin Northcutt

It’s amazing  the attention you receive being  230+ pounds ,6”3 and Black. You usually wear all black,  (like the omen) , people see you walking 10-20 miles daily in combat boots,usually  fast,  regardless of conditions or weather. You usually wear an icy grill, 1,000  mile stare .And always, always  twirl a red stiletto knife in…

Santa’s Helper by Bill Baber.

It was a job and a shitty one at that. Wasn’t going to do much more than pay the rent for the month and make a small dent in a growing mountain of bills. It sure as hell wasn’t going to buy presents for her two kids- it might not leave enough for a goddamn…

Warm Snow by E F Fluff

It’s so cold the pink-dappled-green-brown-bubbled phlegm just sits on top of the snow. Normally it’d sink down a bit. There’s no time to the memory. It becomes endlessly repeating. The room is small. As you walk in, to your right, the entire wall was a mirrored wardrobe. Two-fifths of this was side-by-side shoe racks, another,…

The Gift That Keeps On Giving by Paul D. Brazill

Living well is the best revenge, or so they say, apparently. And, for most of my life, I did live well – very well – once I’d broken free of Seatown’s umbilical cord, which had been strangling me like a noose. Fame. Money. Drugs. Travel. Fast cars. Faster women. All of the above. And it…

Switched Sides by Robert Ragan

I’m standing in line at the Kangaroo Circle with a pink can of Seagram’s Spiked Jamaican Me Happy. Two of the cashiers are talking about someone who just robbed the store and drove off in a black Explorer. Sure enough, two cops walk in the door wearing vests all in black. Immediately, my heart skips…

The strange tale of the Disco Loris by EF Fluff

The strange tale of the Disco Loris I met him at a rave. Or, to be more exact, the after-rave of a rave. He was a blonde, whippet skinny, and a skater. He mumbled, and spoke in constant oscillation from normal to almost incomprehensible nasty comment peppered sub-frequencies, and on to furious infrasound muttering. He…

Two Days before Florence by Chris Benton

Two days before Hurricane Florence hits, I wake up with another concussion. My wife’s been giving them to me every other week for months now, and I don’t know which one will be the blessed last. During the latest, I was having another dream of hell, laid bare within a vast, piss-reeking ditch with all…