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
To me, music is life. It is breath and soul.
It speaks to me, and I hear.
But I am starting to grow deaf to the world.
The consequences of my loudening music?
I, Aurelia, am ceasing to exist.
For the music is murdering me.
Continue reading A Tangled Game of Cards by Neesa Suncheuri
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
The city was larger than Alan remembered. He had wandered its old, European streets for three days and still felt he had only grazed the surface. It had been so different when he and Marion had come here on their honeymoon. They had only stayed for a week (that was all the time he could take off from work) but they knew almost every side street and alleyway by the time they left.
Continue reading Gods in the Machine