After, someone sends me a copy of the video. A montage of falling bodies, of gravity’s call and startled birds, water droplets splashing onto the…
Cathy Ulrich sometimes thinks about how long the fall must have been. Her work has been published in various journals, including Scrawl Place, Bureau Dispatch…
Every day I inch closer to the crumbling cliffs and listen, hoping the waves will whisper their secrets – shifting songs of selkies, cathedrals of…
My mother got the stuffing knocked out of her by a snarling Teddy Boy, who’d growl at her to button up. She didn’t. Pursing her…
That night, I don’t know whether we were dancing or swimming. Streetlights made prisms of the cobbles, flickers of amber and blue pooling under our…
At morning tea, he tells you this. Because the passion of his youth had been a sin, he’d lived for sixty years on the vapours…
His fingers once danced soft-shoe on counters, cast shadows on walls, and flew around rooms gathering storms filled with tales. Stories still wanting telling from…
In the bunker, Betsie sold kisses for bites of a sugar mouse. She leaned towards boys, dress swirling, luminescent buttons glittering in the gloom. Lips…
You shut the door almost but not quite. Every latch’s lifecycle is limited, a tally attached to tasks. Hardware wears out or breaks. Numbers define…
The birds are waiting on frosty fence posts. Marta’s on the uneven path, her cheek resting on the inside of her upper arm, weary of…