Stories from
March, 2012

My h’nds tremble on the keybo’rd. If they don’t like my next work I’ll be killed. Killed ‘nd repl’ced. I wish I h’dn’t broken th’t letter.

Pete Sain likes to show what’s in his brain, preferably before the autopsy.

She called him I Swear This House is Haunted for a long time, but after the break-in she called him Friend, and even let him wash her hair.

Aaron Beyer is going to blog about this.

Whenever she opened her eyes she could still remember what it had felt like to die that very first time.

Matilda Kant spends her days living vicariously by reading other people’s stories.

She swiped absently at her neck again and he wondered if she too felt God’s hot breath.

Hayley Whitworth loves these tiny pieces of fiction.

Pete dragged him over to one side and whispered something in his ear. After that, whatever doubts he had, Thomas kept them to himself.

Daragh Beirne scribbles and doodles and and makes noises at Bad Hamster’s Hamsterama.

Despite the tears, he made himself comfortable in a memory he planned to frequent.

Daniel Stalcup (@dwstalcup) definitely doesn’t live in Los Angeles and isn’t trying to be a screenwriter because that would be silly.

She’d thought him joking, when he pointed at the urn and said he hadn’t let his last girlfriend leave him. She believed him now.

Misti Wolanski (@carradee) loves watching others’ eyes widen when she describes what she writes.

I used to wear my hair in a bun, smoothing it with wax. These days white flakes fall from my scalp, covering my shoulders. Not snow but ash.

Jami Nakamura Lin writes lots of things and is an editor at Revolution House magazine.

The firemen praised my courage but said I couldn’t go back inside. Unable to ensure the evidence was gone, I fumed the rest of the night.

Noel Sloboda wants to learn Swedish so he can read Nanoismer.

When he died, he found the souls of all the animals he’d ever hurt standing in a line, waiting for him. For a moment, none of them moved.

Simon Kewin just is.