PLAYING MURDER by cynthia ring Church basement’s unlocked— those exit signs glow like some messiah-man’s busted lip. steering wheel can’t catch fire— I’m a townsperson. My job’s to walk through pitch-black hallways, and Scream at texas-chainsaw-reverse-dracula doppelgangers while the invisible canary atop Rebekah’s shoulder sings “Baby, don’t hurt me” to that tall boy When they […]

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* by cerebella       fl ea     s, sw aah tted in s um e rweath e r.     1 f a   n, ai     nt n o ai       r c o    ndit io  n e   r .   tr aah p e  z e     sn i   pp e   d     j […]

Picture Day

Picture Day by gavin mccall It’d been only six months ago that he’d had his stroke, but Anthony’s dad still insisted on standing for the picture – not to be outdone by Julia’s father, five years older than him. But Dad’s knees weren’t the only unsteady pair, as beneath Anthony’s dry-pressed slacks, his own seemed […]