Short Fiction, Poetry and Classic Book Reviews
Victor crawled out from behind the curtains and took the candlestick back over to the table, where he took a minute to catch his breath. He walked to the spot along the wall he figured the door was, and lifted the curtain from the bottom, stepping back and raising it until he could see the... Continue Reading →
On his hands and knees, Victor reached out and felt along the break in the skirting board where the purple light shone. The cold air wafted through a narrow gap and brushed his fingers. He ran his hand up the wall above the light and soon found a small, rickety door knob; he turned it,... Continue Reading →
In the bedroom, Victor lifted the mattress from the bed and dragged it to the corner of the room. He then flipped the bedframe up and threw it on top of the mattress. "I'm not sleeping here another night," he said. He crouched by the hand-drawn map on the floor and ran his fingers across... Continue Reading →
Gary laughed, and tears streamed down his face. “I could go home... I could go home!” He paused, and a wondrous look alighted upon him. “I could see my mum.” “That’s right, Gary,” said Victor. “Now tell me what you know about these other rooms—the ones that are still cursed. If I can clear all... Continue Reading →
"I thought this was your home,” said Victor. Gary looked at Victor with a splash of anger in his eyes. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand, then wiped the back of his hand on his pants. “This isn’t my home,” he said. “I once lived here, but...” His look softened and... Continue Reading →
New Year's Eve 1989 in the Venison household was one to remember. So it is unfortunate that I'm the only one who does. (My parents, and my aunties and uncles who attended the party at our house, all woke the next afternoon with "nasty colds" that seemed to have wiped all memory of the night's... Continue Reading →
The sky is blue today. Leafy trees, just taller than myself, line the path. Eight months of the year they are bare, arching over like claws. Now they are lush and green. One month a year they flower. Now they are in full bloom. Wide, open stars of deep red. Around me, men are either... Continue Reading →
His footsteps swish-swish over the concrete in an odd rhythm. A broken hip that never fully healed. He can barely lift his feet, yet we keep the shackles on his ankles. We have to. Those are the rules. We can’t allow any chance of escape. Or any morsel of dignity. His lame shuffle slows us.... Continue Reading →
Knowing nothing about Carlo Collodi’s Pinocchio other than it is a classic children’s story about a puppet and it was made into a Disney movie, I expected a sweet and wholesome adventure with a happy ending. I found instead something more like the bible’s book of revelation: a fast-moving account of glorious creatures and terrifying... Continue Reading →
