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Short Story: Birds of a Feather

Joe waited until he was home alone before opening the bag. He dropped it on the kitchen table over a touristy place mat and scattering of unopened envelopes. His sweaty fingers gripped the zipper and the canvas spilled apart into …

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To Hanbury Gardens We Will Go

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.

The car pulled up outside the entrance and three siblings stepped out into the hot sunshine. Sharp light …

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Short Story: Follow Me

Suddenly Sam found himself sitting at the next table to Sam.

To be more clear, Sam McKenna suddenly realised that he was sitting at a table next to a table where Sam McKenna sat.

To be clearer still, here we …

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Short Story: Swim Swim

701-9 Test 3028. 2017-12-15. 16:22.

Click. swing. Light up. Foodbody? Grabbody. Grabbody smell.

Grab grab. Grab grab go. Up up. Smell loud. Body loud. Away away. Over. Grab grab. Down. Ear loud. Down.

Splash splash. Grab go. Grabbody smell. Swim …

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Short Story: A Fairy Gust

Hokusai: Ejiri in the Suruga Province

***page title image: Ejiri in the Province of Suruga, by Katsushika Hokusai (1832)***

“A fairy gust,” said the mother to herself in the kitchen.

It had come flung from the Atlantic, down through the low mountains and into the narrow …

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Short Story: Patients

After washing my hands with warm water I squirt disinfectant gel on them from the plastic dispenser that hangs on the wall, and stand looking in the mirror while I rub them dry. Looking older? Surely, but it’s so hard …

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Short Story: Dossers

Baurisheen at dusk

When the branch of the beech tree broke Morris fell down in a heap next to the trunk. He lay there and stared at the sky. “Stupid branch!” he cursed upwards. The tree was unmoved, its leaves shivering in the …

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Short Story: Signing On

Coffee in Eyre Square

Burgundy. Cabernet Sauvignon. Merlot. White, red, rosa, bubbly. Brian bought 500 grams of dry fusilli pasta in Dunness Stores before going to the Dole Office to sign on. He should have gone earlier; it was overflowing when he got to …

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Short Story: The Frape

Buttermilk Lane Galway

Jamie works in one of those offices down on Abbey Street. It’s a call centre or something: the European office of some American tech company. Anyway he’s been there over a year now. Most of his gang are in Australia, …

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Short Story: The Hunter

Oak trees in light and shade

Richard Sadler stayed perfectly still as drops of sweat began to form on his forehead and trickle down his long nose and lean cheeks. It was already mid afternoon. Completely enveloped in a dense thicket, He was invisible from beyond …

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Short Story: Nothing Happens

Grass in the Morning

Joyce sat on the wall looking over the road at the lake. Small quick waves lapped against the stony shore. “Nothing ever happens here”. Ray stopped sharpening the stick and stuck it experimentally into the ground. “Not