Archive for May, 2008

I always dreamed of being well-versed in the classics; proficient in Latin, faster than bears, able to sip orange juice with Socrates on the balcony of his Caravan… We had many many good times but they had to end, my friends. For the classical age was doomed to end the moment all its records were eaten by a hungry scholar who couldn’t be bothered going to the corner store.








By Leah O’Hearn



Namque fluentisono prospectans litore Diae,

Thesea cedentem celeri cum classe tuetur

indomitos in corde gerens Ariadna furores,

necdum etiam sese quae visit visere credit,

utpote fallaci quae tum primum excita somno

desertam in sola miseram se cernat harena.


“He broke up with me. Where should I go now?” Ariadne stared hard at her laptop while the waves lapped at the shore in the background. She hit ‘enter’ furiously and then glared at her surroundings. She was on an idyllic island for fuck’s sake! Why couldn’t he abandon her some place horrible, some place she would be happy to leave behind? No, the bastard had to pick someplace beautiful, some place she’d fallen in love with and now had to leave…because, well, she couldn’t stay now, could she? (more…)


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This story was found under a treasure chest at the back of the local post office last week after close on Thursday. It was guarded by a number of snapping turtles and a small rose bush. In the end we all had a soda.







Calmer Karma

Katy Wimhurst




A wolf’s eyes normally gleam cold and sharp, like a metallic moon. But these days Killer’s eyes seemed to hold a reflection of an open sky. (more…)

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I knew there would be trouble, of course, the minute I realised the wind was blowing backwards. How I quite ended up in this spot I have no idea. I can only assume the maps were ironic.

Here is this week’s story.





By Matt Shaner




My father and I flew into Dallas/Fort Worth airport in late December. Snow covered the highways at home. It was almost eighty in Dallas. (more…)

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It’s been four long months since Dog versus Sandwich began its march toward greatness (or alternate destinations) with its bowler hat escalloted firmly to its head and a marching stick marching beside it, covered with ants of potential and stink bugs of ongoing maintenance… in that time I’ve learnt a lot about myself, not least that I am a sucker for stories with talking animals.


The Five Stages of Beef 



The Five Stages of Beef

Peter Parrish




It was not the largest cow he had ever seen. Nonetheless, it was in his way. This posed a problem. (more…)

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