The elevator doors opened, creaking. Margaret entered and gestured to her sweater with a misshapen Christmas tree in goose-turd green. ‘What do you think?’ ‘Very festive.’ ‘You don’t like it?’ ‘Not particularly, sorry.’ The elevator jolted to a stop. Margaret stormed out. My phone buzzed. Horoscope (Scorpio): Today, your honesty will be appreciated. Afterword The mission […]
Her head on the counter, her body in the freezer. Not ideal. Probably should have kept them together, but her body was thawing and I couldn’t get her hair right. It didn’t look so hard in the pictures. I put the knife down. Would a comb be easier? Who really cares – she’ll be delicious
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‘Guess, Mummy.’ A thick mass of black lines ran down Sarah‘s paper. Not the usual butterfly, rainbow or unicorn. I sit. ‘A shadow?’ ‘A tree.’ ‘Of course. Those are the branches?’ She nods. ‘These are the roots?’ ‘No, a body.’ ‘When I was out last night, what did you watch with your brother?’ Afterword The
Metallic, salty blood met her tongue as Andrea closed her mouth over the wound. Damn barbwire. She removed her shirt and stuffed it under a rock. The night air tore through her flimsy singlet. Leaves rustled and insects chirped. Something scratched at the earth. Any moment, sirens could sound. Emerging from the tree line, she
Who steals on Christmas morning? Taken, my pair of old skis and a battered snowboard with a broken binding. Stranger still, my new skis rest in the rack. Two sets of footprints run to my house. One half the size of the other. The tracks of a skier and snowboarder lead away. After putting my
