Paul wasn’t sure he could eat the hand of a fellow human being, but he was dying…. He took out the pocket knife with frost bitten fingers. Opened it. Held her hand a long time. Her flesh was pale. The painted fingernails looked like bloody claws. He shuddered. He definitely would avoid the fingernails. Still […]
Stories
Martin’s Conscience (The Dog)
Martin’s driving fast and reckless. A bottle in his hand. His teeth clenched in an angry snarl. It started this morning. Late for work at the telemarketing company where his sales are down. His boss came in and fired him.
Swallowing Light
Jonathan Douglas Dowdle was born in Nashua, NH and has traveled throughout the US, he currently resides in South Carolina. Previous works have appeared or are appearing in
The Right Ear
“You make your childhood sound gothic,” he’d said the week before. “Well, that explains the dress code,” I’d retorted. Deep down, I doubted that his detached observations, paired with my dry humour, would prove beneficial. Still, I was back. I was there because I’d reached out for help. Because I couldn’t sleep or work. Because […]
What are We?
I wasn’t comfortable here, I should have just said “no!” The house was abandoned, and from what Kelly confessed to me while driving here, made me angry.
Requiem for Chopin
Elaine was lucky for two reasons. She had flood insurance and she had somewhere to go.
Her new life, far away from the dire-faced officials on the Public Access channel was finally coming into focus after the two-hour layover in Chicago.
Afterlife
I never thought much about the afterlife. Until now. I can’t move, breathe, speak or hear and it is so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead. Chuckling softly at the irony of it all, I pick at the maggots wriggling on my forehead. […]
Magician
A thief came out of the shadows, dressed in all black and wearing a balaclava and held a pistol at Darren Tanian. “Money!” He shouted. “Ain’t a thang.” Darren sang. He took a drag from his black quellazaire and exhaled a thin, grayish vapor. “Money!” The thief repeated. “Where?” Darren asked. The thief cocked the […]
Tomato Pulp Makes the Wound Look Worse
I never owned a bow and arrow as a kid but learned archery from my friend, Stanley Llewellyn. Using mud, we painted a target on an old tree in Llewellyn’s backyard
Story: After He Cheated
At first she felt free, after her husband cheated. Oddly, Vivian found herself walking through a local park in the July heat without a bra on. She simply didn’t give a damn about attire now with her stringy hair and puffy eyes