by Alex Nolan | SatSat, JanJan, 2020202020202020 | Fiction
For four years, the curse had endured and none knew where it had begun. Carolina swung her eyes back towards the town streets; very few people were outdoors and the dust swirled in low curls over the cobbles. Torches and lamps were snubbed out – the town had kept to a schedule of time, which included when to sleep, if only to maintain a routine.
by Alex Nolan | SunSun, FebFeb, 2019201920192019 | Fiction
Our breaths seemed to sync, the waves on the sea were calm. As the world was bathed in orange light, I could feel the knot in my throat.
by E | MonMon, JanJan, 2019201920192019 | Fiction
Casey Horner In the dark valley, at the end of the old world, once stood a great stone lodge. The dwelling existed without time, bound only by fragments of collective memory. It was a place the extinguished came to deposit their recollections of living before crossing...
by Alex Nolan | MonMon, NovNov, 2018201820182018 | Fiction
Clearing was a town in a wide-cut circle of space, among an ocean of trees that spanned miles. Clearing was town where people were born and where they died without ever seeing beyond its borders. No one knew what, if anything, was outside the forest’s borders. It was...
by Q | WedWed, OctOct, 2017201720172017 | Fiction, Satire
It’s a Sunday afternoon, and the board have called an emergency meeting. This is their seventh emergency meeting of the year. It’s February. A line of white men pour into the conference room, all visibly shaken; some of them are wearing golf clothes, Mr Evans is still...
