Black Haven
Displayed within, life’s moments extrapolated, tangible anguish, remnants of sorrow. With haphazard intent, encapsulated vestiges scattered…
Writer’s Choice
The Yellow Birds
He guides his 1950 Massey-Harris tractor out the battered grey doors of the old barn. The rusted hinges of the barn door match the faded paint…
Marshmallows and Wood-Ear Mushrooms
Today is the first day of my last period. I know because in three weeks, when my body prepares to do it again, I will run into a man with a knife.
Celebrate
Marcia chose the little photography shop in North Park because one of her work colleagues had recommended it. She’d called the day before…
The School Inspector
A newly-appointed primary school teacher got off the rattletrap at the pukka road and headed on foot to the village that nestled among the citrus orchards…
Working the Fire Line
Working the Fire Line – Fierce Fiction by Alan MacLeod – October 21, 2018 The first time I saw her we were on the fire line digging a ditch to contain the blaze. “There’s Beth,” someone said. “ Bobby Freeman’s sister and a damn good digger too.” I saw a short, slender woman in her early twenties, wearing a bright… Read More »Working the Fire Line
The Red Jeep
A Jeep has sat in front of our house for a month, its red boxy body catching my eye every time I walk outside. Whoever left it, placed it equal distance…
Cookies for Breakfast
I have learned life is short, and dying takes forever. For nearly seventy years, I’ve been a whirling dervish. I ran to and from various aspects of a life filled with perpetual…
Hank
I am offended. It is not my fault that there is no bedroom door to close to keep the drywall sanding-dust out. No, not my fault, and to tell the truth…