Chapter 6

It was immediately apparent that Ms. Smith and I would not get along well. Firstly, she was the type to wear sunglasses indoors, and not because she was hungover. That would imply she had at least a modest penchant for fun, and Ms. Smith was clearly not fun. Furthermore, when I tried to speak directly at her, I found myself looking back into my own nervous eyes. Like her furniture, her manner was uncomfortable and unnatural. Not to mention, she spoke to me as she would a child, reprimanding me with her… Read More

Chapter 5

I walked into the waiting room of a Ms. Smith. The room was sterile, tidy, and modern. Hard edges, simple shapes, and negative space; a geometric taste that said future without actual signs of progress. I tasted the air. There was nothing, and my feral heart called out from my chest; I knew I couldn’t live in a place like this. The air lacked texture.  My spirit would die here, while my body carried on breathing in air without character. I sat down on a rectangle. On a table to my left… Read More


The night before I moved to Memory Lane I was at a party. It was my friend’s party, but I only spoke to him twice that night. The first time he wanted to tell me that I was going to be okay. He told me that I couldn’t keep going on like I was, and that I needed to let other people help. I thought that these were two pretty contradictory messages, but all the same I told him I was fine. I’m not sure he believed me. The second time was a… Read More

Chapter 4

Summer came to a close. So it goes. The weeks came to pass and as they tend to do around this time of year, the leaves began to fall one by one. Like the leaves, my friends too began to fall away, one at a time. Thomas was the last to go. I went to visit him before he moved out. We didn’t talk about him going away, but instead focused on things we’d done over the last four years.  The adventures were many, far too many to count, and still for… Read More

III : An ominous voice.

Henry, Oh Henry… Frantically, I whipped my head from side to side. Where was the voice coming from? Completely submerged, I’d drifted down into the depths of the quarry, where this deep, resonating voice confronted me. It was omnipresent, vibrating the water all around me with its throbbing bass, my ears ringing as I listened, Day by day, the end nears  So please, do keep in mind You’ll have to come to terms You’re the last of your kind. No matter where you run No matter what you try Give in, and change your ways… Read More

II : A thoughtful present.

He, The North, Cuts the brush; His Eastern entourage Tailing that familiar rush Of said sweet Southbound trail • Soaring spirits flying high, yet, marred By echoes haunting this final evening quest Now you must run fast from an impending scar Sunset coming, leaves falling, all bowing to the West • Run, oh woodland wand’re, run for the edge is creeping near Take stock of what you’ve got; watch each egg within your basket Oh, You can hope, you can hide, but please do abide by fledgling fears And know this marks… Read More

Globs the Cannibal

Written by Zachary D. Turner and illustrated by Charles J. MacDonald Globs was a cannibal. He ate other people. Globs lived with a collective of other cannibals, which really shouldn’t have been a sustainable living situation, but I digress. Globs wanted to expand his palette. Snobs, the cannibalette, suggested Tender: an app that pairs you with yummy meat-trolleys you can interview prior to eating. Globs met Lori on Tender. Lori was a meat-trolley dressed up in a pretty painted skin-jacket. She had looked good on the digital display case. Globs introduced himself. One… Read More