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Sickle Claws: Hesperonychus Monstrous
A macabre, disturbing story of monsters and mothers.
Momma’s a Butcher
We are going somewhere far: a dark tale of blood and knives.
Side-lined with the Goddess Pallas Athena
A story based on true events: when a mysterious fever puts Sue in the hands of a blood-thirsty surgeon, the young classics scholar summons her idol – a warrior goddess ...
Bad Research
A humorous take on a writer who manipulates life for his art and its ramifications.
Twisting the Reels
There’s nothing to spill, but it rolls across my uneven floor to the opposite corner of the room, and bumps into the shoebox containing my father’s personal effects.
Bradley Beach
A story about love and faith and reconciling with a dark secret from the past.
Unicorn Cake
Are you one of the weird kids, too? A birthday party and a new friend.
Very Little like Alan
A visit to an old friend…
Mr Spire
A young man’s night out in Dublin starts at its Spire.
Chippendales
I felt bad about it in high school, my vanity. Now I wear it proudly. Why not lean into it?
Catch and release
A story about two little girls going on a brief adventure.
Blocked
A writer, Violet, working from home with severe case of writer’s block who discovers the walls of her studio apartment have begun to close in on her.
Neighbors
The blonde spent about half of each day out on that new porch. She was this pale little thing with gaunt eyes and tattoos on her calves, and she always ...
The Gun
It wasn’t hers. Sue hadn’t wanted it, but there it was, on the seat beside her. “For your protection,” they said. “Just in case.”
Ace
The first time I tried to deepen our kisses, she pulled back uncertainly.
Perfect Hair Day
All Val could see from the back of the conference room was row after row of perfect hair.
And my life unfolds
A story that explores patriarchy and how it affects a woman’s life. Set in Assam, India.
Fry Person
On paper, Arman was not unlike the other applicants. His face, just like the others, was young and hopeful.
When Blankoids Sing They Sound Like Elvis
During the winter of ’98, I think I was in love or obsessed with Mother Teresa. This version had pierced nipples and a coke problem and an oversized Cramps T-shirt ...
Death of a Pacifist
“I’m against the bombing, even if it is that damned Islamic State,” the old man yelled over the whipping wind,