The Path of Needles


“Girls went missing all the time in the city. Sometimes in groups of two or three on their ways to parties or headed to the store because a mother told them to remember milk on their way home, but most often alone. All alone…. “

Diary of a Dead Woman


“I have been dead, now, for longer than I ever lived. I can’t recall the exact year it happened. I remember my husband’s scream, my daughter’s footsteps sprinting the hall. I remember my son’s face blood-speckled…”



"The rabbit lived in a balsa wood hutch painted to look like an Alpine chalet, with green grass, yellow flowers and white flowers, and white snow on a red roof..."

The Night Hag


“I murder for a living,” he said, “but my true passions are travel and alcohol.” He reached for the saucer of sake, but I grabbed it first...

Blue Star - Shooting Through

BY F.E. Clark

I wrap myself in layers the colour of the season, a light waistcoat with many pockets in summer, wool and coats in winter. When I am on the Path I carry with me only my spirit, matches, a little food and water, and the tools I might need. It is my job to keep the Path open...

Dangerous After Dark


“I should walk you home,” Mitchell said, wiping the last of the lager from his lips with the back of his hand, the sleeves of his school shirt having been rolled up two pints ago. “My dad says it’s dangerous in the wood after dark..."

Bone of the Mountain


I yank one of the icicles from our cabin's roof to read the fine lines. They're like swirls of winter wind, and when I fit the tip of my fingernail inside one of the grooves, I see your death, cold and slow in the blizzard to come. To save the rest of us, you ignore the lines that have predicted your death. The mountain requires an animal's heart...

Stick To Me, Peel From Me


Pleasure is a shade falling over your face barring the eyes, which glow with feelings that frighten and persuade. I have arranged my shoes in their boxes from the smallest size to the largest, around my body, which is only one size, the size it has been since I was thirteen. I am an adult now but a coiled one, waiting in this body yet to spring...

Fog on Brighton Pier


One morning a sea fog descended on Brighton Pier, muffling and shrouding it in a luminescence grey. I was nagged by a feeling of déjà vu. Families strolled up and down the pier. The children ate candy floss and rock, teeth scraping and gnawing at pink rock...

Transformation, Metamorphosis, Swan


The girl you love is becoming a swan. Like in the ballet, you think, though you aren’t actually familiar with the ballet. Your mother had you in classes when you were a child. She said you wept every time you went inside the studio, tears flowing quietly down your face as you gazed at the mirror and dipped into your pliés...



There is something in the house. I've known that since the day we came here. I think it comes from outside--from the woods that press against the fence a little closer each year. When we bought the house, Simon said the trees were a blessing that most people would envy... 

The Inspection of the Bear


In the dream she is walking through some Mittel European village, leading a bear on a rope. The rope is fraying. The bear is not tame. It lumbers along after her, but it’s getting bored with this. Villagers watch from windows. Through the glass she feels the weight of their prayers... 

The Queen and the Silence


They called her the Grey Queen. Her gaze was the colour of storm echoes. While kings had fought and fallen, she’d watched and waited for the crown. When they lay in chill tombs, she sat on the throne. Her words were as cold as stone rain. In the castle halls, courtiers danced to stunted music while she stood at the tower tops and looked across her land... 



I’m arranging the display case when the bell tinkles, and by the time I straighten up these two old biddies are right in front of me, nestled together like salt and pepper shakers. One of them has bone-white hair that’s long enough to sit on, and the other’s hair is real short and black as a grave beetle...



Conor looked out the trailer window into the inky fog of night, his fingers gripping the sheets under his knees. “I wanna go out now.” His mother looked up from the couch, where a pulp thriller was spread on the table of her thighs, and he could feel her eyes roll back into her head. His father groaned, but smiled.



The woman sits at the edge of things and waits. Water drips from her white-blonde hair and creates puddles on the wooden surface of the bar. The woman’s face makes Liz want to imagine things but Liz focuses instead on the people who push forward, waving their twenty-pound notes in the air...

I Remain Yours


Dear Walt, The snow’s almost melted now. The bones of the earth are showing again, the mesa to the west sheds its white coat for the last time, I hope. The fence is busted, wire came down from the weight of the snow. I worried the cow might wander off but she stays put, I guess even she knows there’s nowhere to go...  

The Leap


The engine growls as the bus jolts up the winding road. The passengers have slid open windows letting in a breeze tinged with smoke and the splintered scents of the city below. The man who now calls himself Mark sits by his son. Ryan stares at his phone, swiping through stories with barely a blink...

Shall I Throw It Down


“Shall I throw it down?” asked a monotone drone above us.“Go ahead,” shouted Mr. Monofilio into the dark gape. Metal scraped against metal and a heap of rubbish crashed at the base of the furnace. Someone had hung a cardboard sign reading “toasty fireplace” next to a large white button with a faded “ignite” printed on it...