I would first like to clarify that I do not want to write this. My therapist ordered it. They said, “Revisit the wounds until they stop bleeding.” I take the aripiprazole, and I think that should be enough. But no. Now I need to drift through memory like a bilious
The Cat in the Windowsill Read More »
Now that I’m trying to tell the story of how I died, I’ve found myself appreciating the craft of eulogy more than I ever did in life. I’m finding it difficult to find where the story of my end begins. It all started with it, I suppose. I saw it
The Shadow’s Thrall Read More »
Recently my family was contacted by a storage unit company. They said my dad was listed as the secondary contact for a unit under my uncle’s name. Which was strange, as my uncle had been a missing person for nearly 14 years now. Which apparently the company didn’t know, explaining
My Uncle was Obsessed with Holes Read More »
Tink tink tink tink tink….the soft sound echoes through the room. My hands shake, my heart races and my eyes go hazy with unshed tears locked onto his hand gripping the gun handle like a vice. I bellow out in a broken pleading cry dropping to my knees, gripping onto
It was Tuesday after lunch when I noticed the Door. I was walking back from the equipment cupboard to restock my phlebotomy tray, when I passed Dr Clark’s room and stopped. The examination couch that usually sat unused against that stretch of wall was gone. In its place was a
A New Doctor Just Started Working at My Surgery. I Think He’s Harvesting Something. Read More »
By the time Jean-Luc finally arrives, the only things awake are the moon and me. It sits in the sky a perfect, silver half-slice, dewy in the way all things get around dawn. It’s cold out. My breath fogs around my cigarette, and I hear the bus before I see
You think you know your family. What they look like, how they speak, how it feels when they pat you on the back and say ‘welcome home’. None of us truly know any other person; not completely, often not in the ways that matter. I thought I knew my family,
I Inherited the World’s Worst Genetic Condition Read More »
We moved into the flat above the butcher’s two months ago. It was a step down from our old place; John lost his good job and we had to make adjustments. The place wasn’t exactly the Ritz, but it functioned. The wallpaper popped and flaked when you scraped a nail
The Floor is Sticky Read More »
Stacy and I switched the power on and sent ourselves to an early grave. I say an early grave, but I don’t expect there will be anyone left to bury us. It was an honest mistake, one we couldn’t have foreseen. To any who may read these words after the
A Thing of Flesh and Copper Read More »
Heather found herself in bed, unable to move a muscle—trying her hardest to shift her arm and wake her husband sleeping next to her, but to no avail. She was in sleep paralysis—a phenomenon she’d read about but never experienced until then. It frightened her to lie there helpless, but
I remember the day that the red angels came. It was a hot, scorching day. So hot that the roads began to melt. So hot that it was dangerous to go outside, lest you pass out from the heat and die of a heatstroke. I was at work when it
I live alone in a secluded house in the mountainous region near Petrópolis. It’s a quiet place, surrounded by dense forest, perfect for anyone looking to escape the chaos of Rio de Janeiro on weekends and holidays. My only constant companion is Barnaby. Barnaby is, or was, a four-year-old Golden
My dog is walking on two legs Read More »
January is the month of lies. If you’ve worked in the fitness industry as long as I have, you eventually learn to hate the calendar. January 2nd marks the beginning of the migration of repentant souls. They arrive in schools, wearing lycra clothes that still smell like the store, carrying
DO YOU KNOW what nitrogen hypoxia is? It’s how I’ve chosen to die. Our state is the sixth to adopt this method, behind Alabama, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Oklahoma. Some human rights advocates and medical experts consider it cruel and unusual punishment tantamount to torture. However, haven’t they said as
I Lead a Death Cult Read More »
Lucy was good at hide-and-seek. Maybe even the best. Other children were always hiding in the most obvious places—a closet, under the car, behind the sofa. But Lucy knew better spots. She hid in the shadows, almost in plain sight, where the seekers’ eyes simply failed to deliver the message
His heavy corpse clings to her back like an undesirable cloak. His rotting flesh melting into her pores, moulding itself to her structure. She used to be able to peel his skin away with her finger tips but now she must use a pair of blunt scissors she carries in
Love is but a knife we sear ourselves with Read More »
12th June Marie picked up the last of her stuff today. I’d hoped that some of the tension would have dissolved with time apart, but she wouldn’t even look at me. Just dropped her key in the bowl by the door and checked I had the right bank details to
The Hand That Feeds You Read More »
The day began like any other as Carrie Sumter made breakfast for her husband and son. Part way through the crackling sizzle of eggs, the husband made his way into the living room and collapsed on to the couch. Carrie smiled at him, as she always tried to, but he
Uncle Carter’s Gift Read More »
1 I don’t know if anyone will end up reading this. Fuck I don’t even know if theres anyone left outside this damn building. The last time I looked out the window everything was dark but not in the usual way one would expect the early hours of the morning
I’ve been locked inside this warehouse for 42 hours and everyone is missing Read More »
If you’re reading this, it’s because I have no other choice. Nobody will listen to me, not even the police. It’s only a matter of time before they come for me, and when they do, this is the only evidence of the truth. There is something under the boardwalk in
There’s Something Under the Boardwalk Read More »
There is this idea I have always clung to. Most people won’t even consider it. Are our ideas our own, or do they come from somewhere else? Maybe some are our own, but sometimes we pick up a signal from the universe, a forgotten memory locked in time. I have
A gust of October wind sent a shiver up my back. Goosebumps prickled through my ghost costume, the former bed sheet flapping like a flag in the wind. I followed what I could see of my best friend Mikey from hand-cut eyeholes. The top of his matte brown dollar store
I filled up the bowl to the brim with live meal-worms from the fridge, watching them squirm and slither over each other as if they believed they could escape. It was gross and it made me want to gag yet I stomached the feeling. Just as I had many times
Walker McCoy was the measure of how stubborn the dead could be. He was buried at twenty-two feet in some nowhere prairie just outside of Greer County on October 4th 1867. Two days later, a group of Indians found his severed arm—identifiable only by a trashy signet ring. That limb
You can only bury the dead so deep Read More »
