1 The last unenriched food on Earth is a tin of dog meat. Like the chew toys that decay too slowly, this tin long outlasts its purpose. No more dogs in the world to call back to their dinner bowls. Few creatures survived the heat of those summers. It is a rich man who buys…
Tag: Surreal
The Shadow Man Travels
At the time, he’s sick of it, the heavinesssettling in his shadow limbs. All those nightsmixing with the same old spirits in New Orleans,or rattling chains in windowless European castles.He’s tired of strangers who call themselves expertson him, then walk through his body on the stairscall out with cold hearted threats. So the Shadow Man…
Sunflower Heart
They say I have to write a story. It’s what I wanted when my back was breaking. You should be careful what you wish for. At least there’s a window and I can watch the evening primroses opening while I think. I lift the lid on my tea mug and smell the green tea. This…
Cascading Failures of the Heart
They will never know they are perfect for each other. Theoretically. Algorithmically. A solved equation of two strangers. Objectively a cosmic match. As objects moving through the universe are drawn toward each other by their natures. They’ll never know they should have found each other and been as beautiful and strange and full of fire…
Slow TV
Gareth Durasow grew up in Castleford, West Yorkshire. He has been a teacher, a tailor, a soldier, and a spy. As well as Neon, his short stories and poetry have been published by The Fiction Desk, Dead Ink, The Rialto, Shearsman, STORGY and Ad Hoc Fiction. His poetry collection Endless Running Games is available from…
The Audience May Want to Look Away
Ground floor flats mean easy access to the street. There is no lugging your shopping up flights of stairs, no lugging your bins down them. Large windows on ground floor flats let in a lot of light. You really feel in the middle of the action. Selling points. He didn’t mention that ground floor flats…
An Image Poem
Alan Bern, a retired Children’s Librarian, is a poet, storywriter, and photographer with three books of poetry: No no the saddest and Waterwalking in Berkeley from Fithian Press; greater distance published by his own press, Lines & Faces, a fine press specializing in illustrated poetry broadsides, collaborating with the artist Robert Woods, (linesandfaces.com). Alan has won prizes for his poems, stories, and photos…
After the Wedding
On our first visit to the beach we could see something going on in the water, beyond the cliffs, buggering the view. Local divers and boaters had set up a kind of makeshift no-go zone. Ropes drooped from buoy to buoy in a wobbly oval, and there were small boats with winches and ropes and…
On Certain Days
there is inside my house a flightof rooms removed by halfan inch in a directionthat I can’t quite nameoff a little at an anglelike in the drawing of a childbut how to get there seemsimpossible to figure out. I sometimes feel the wallsand listen. I wonder ifthere’s something hiddenin those rooms. A cornerwhere the puppeteers…
Nights
It is my wife who always gets the phone. When she is not in, I just let it ring until it stops. “It is Paula,” she said as she slapped the receiver into my hand, and then, “Leo, who the fuck is Paula?” * This was nearly four years ago and she was very tense…