Short Fiction
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The bite of scotch bonnet nipped at Anika’s nose. Humming, Joachim was whipping up shrimp and jollof rice in his kitchen for their special evening together. Tenderhearted, Joachim went out of his way each day to make her feel special. It was their first anniversary. She was so lucky with Joachim. They’d met at work.
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“Have you ever seen a squonk’s tears? Well, look at mine,” Harrison belted out the Steely Dan lyric. Music waltzed around Harrison’s sunny studio. He stepped back from the nearly finished bust. With a clay covered hand, Harrison stroked his graying beard. He looked from the police artist sketch to the e-fit back to his
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Amethyst, rose, and amber colored crystals shimmered all around Maura. Candles, some tapers others squat flickered in the heavily incensed air. In awe Maura took in the shop’s wondrous treasures. At the cash register, she yelped. Behind the counter, a greasy teen boy in full clown makeup nodded his head toward a velvet curtain without
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3:15 pm, the white ticket read 3:15 pm. Heart thumping in her ribcage, Bonita turned the ticket, her very own ticket, in her hand. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. “Tee shirts, tee shirts, get your World’s Most Beautiful Painting tee shirt here,” the shirt hawker shouted and waved a garish tee in Bonita’s face.
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Splash into the cool electric blue of Aqua Bergamotsoon plunging into the manly Old SpiceApollo, Phoenix, and Dark Temptation Axe SprayBehold this curl on my chinwho needs to washwhen I smell like a man Paint me Blu Atlas, Ralph Lauren Polo Redcamouflage for middle school corridor treksMom don’t you understandNautica body spray is my north
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It started with a spark. Not emotional, but a static charge leaping to the fridge as XR8 rolled over the kitchen rug carrying groceries. From the refrigerator panel, GiGi, the home management AI, giggled. “Sorry,” XR8 said with 63% certainty. “No worries, doll face. Is that an ice cream cone in that bag or are
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Giving Butter By DjinniRB the winter of madeleines Lemon sweet and pound cake light I was giving up on giving up butter That joke was naturally followed by a season of stomach crunches My abs appreciated nothing summers of running followed close behind fueled by Cap’n Crunch, undiagnosed hypoglycemia Tissues starved for fuel Capillaries bursting
circular staircase 