by Neesa Suncheuri
I’m at my psychiatrist’s office for a routine visit. I go every four weeks, mostly to get my prescriptions. I haven’t changed my medication dosages in months.
“Hello, Neesa, how are you?”
“I’m doing really well!” A smile on my face. “Last week, something amazing happened to me. I’ve become a Christian!”
Continue reading The Gift of Light
by Grace Carpenter
He sits in front of her like some kind of Buddha, legs folded on the carpet, slightly protruding belly just visible through the folds of his loose shirt. She’s fond of that belly, the way it jiggles happily when he laughs and bounces around when he runs shirtless, jumping off cliffs or chasing her with a feather duster. His belly is playful and free. She needs that.
Continue reading Takeout
by Derek Flynn
I heard a Ruts song on the radio last night and thought of you. You were an exchange student, only over here for six months. We met when I was busking on Grafton Street. I sang “Simple Twist of Fate” and you said it was your favourite song. You went to throw me some money but accidentally threw me a dollar.
Continue reading In a Rut
I dreamt of Samsimeon again last night. He occupies my every thought now, night and day. And each time I think of him, I feel myself move one step closer to my own death. Not that it frightens me; it’s been a long time coming and any fear that death once held for me has long since dissipated.
Continue reading Memories of Chaos by Derek Flynn
The therapist is nondescript. She sits in front of Lily, nondescript brown hair hanging limply around her nondescript eyes and cheeks. The ambivalent half-whisper that emerges from her exceedingly ordinary lips is monotone. Her figure is thoroughly average, as are her dress and shoes. The pad of paper in her hands is appropriately stock, and the handwriting upon it is perfectly indistinguishable from that of every other person in the universe.
Continue reading Lily Padded by Grace Carpenter