Friday Night at the Morgue, Chicago’s Coolest Venue
by Madeleine Armstrong

Most normals don’t know about The Morgue. It’s on the corner of Michigan and Eerie, but there’s no neon sign, no daily specials board, just a black opening and steps leading down into darkness. […]

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You and Me
by Lucienne Cummings

‘Did you try that exercise?’ June, my therapist, cocks her head in a way that shows she already knows. I shake my head. ‘Is the medication helping? […]

Singapura – September 1952
by Adele Evershed

Stress Fracture – a hairline crack caused by repetitive stress.

She hates incense; the scent clings to her like grief. As she drifts down Keong Saik Road, shadows twist into all her lost people. […]

When I Was Born, My Mother Ate My Placenta
by Mairead Fagan

I don’t mean right away, like hot pizza, flesh stringing from between teeth like melted mozzarella, blood sheeting over her chin and drip-drip-dripping…[…]

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into stones, into water, into clouds
by Frances Gapper

Act 1. Anton Chekhov beak-raps the glass roof of Dad’s passion project / our house and shits on it. “We should never have adopted that seagull,” says Helena, my stepmother. […]

Smaller Ghosts
by Jenny Hart

I thought ghosts could slip in through cracks, even ones as big as Amelia. At night, she curls her fingers around the railings and pulls herself up to my first floor flat. She folds down small enough to fit back into my life…[…]

Frisson Interruptus
by Ian Johnson

I re-stalked the pulsing crimson corridors, the silk of a paisley cravat tickling my sculpted silver goatee. I hadn’t slept again, the rolling room a restless tomb as the Orient Express hurtled beyond Vienna and Budapest…[…]

Daylight saving
by Jupiter Jones

Following the global conflict of the dirty thirties, daylight becomes a scarce commodity. Particles of something (apparently natural) in the atmosphere twilights the whole of the northern hemisphere. […]

Flash
by Joe Luscombe

‘Szybko, wkrótce wrócą!’

I don’t speak more Polish than it takes to order a Tyskie but I know what the heavily pregnant woman next to me is screaming. I’ve heard it in the Canadian Barren Lands…[…]

The Good People
by Fiona McKay

‘Cars these days don’t have a spare,’ the man says. Kate, looking in the boot of the car, is startled, her heart a flock of sparrows. The empty country road, her flat tyre. Where had he even come from? A field?[…]

Phantom Pain
by Scott MacLeod

When Effie ended it, she killed Grote just as if she’d shot him through the eye. He would never recover. He hadn’t seen it coming. How could she do it? […]

Rubbernecker
by Andrew Monge

Why?

Why me?

Why did it have to be me?

I took this job for the solitude. No one, myself included, dreams of being a janitor… […]

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