Wednesday Write-Up: Children of Tomorrow

Every night, when Maya got into bed, she remembered a story her mother had told her.

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Short Story Sunday: Allow for some spillage

The grinding of the dispenser was the only warning Nathaniel needed: long overdue maintenance was about to halt their production, and he wasn’t convinced that he could get it repaired this time.

Short Story Sunday: All About Ashley

When Helen turned the key in the lock, she knew something was wrong. The air had shifted in a way that let her know someone had been in her house. She pulled the key out of the door and listened, silencing the grocery packet bouncing against her hip. Nothing answered the call of her ears.

Short Story Sunday: Scars in the Making [For Alan Kurdi, who drowned in Turkey]

The man sitting opposite me has a scar that runs from his left nostril to a point under his jaw. I only notice it because his face glints under the neon lights of the children’s play area in the restaurant. It looks like he has fishing line trapped under his skin.

Short Story Sunday: Ice in Winter [Part Four: The Conclusion]

Simon opened his good eye. He was in some kind of shed. He could see sunlight creeping in under the door, so he knew it was still day time. When he tried to move, he realised he was constrained.