Whiteout- by Batya Guarisma
These calloused fingers built the house
In which your ungrateful soul resides
Category: Honourable Mention
Remedy – by Kyle Hooper
These calloused fingers built the house
In which your ungrateful soul resides
Defective and Suspect- by Gerry Stefanson aka The Wordbutcher
It smells of old, forgotten things:
damp earth long buried, decanted
Read More Defective and Suspect- by Gerry Stefanson aka The WordbutcherOubliette – by Brett Leanne
It smells of old, forgotten things:
damp earth long buried, decanted
Read More Oubliette – by Brett LeanneDitchmoss – by Andrew Shaughnessy
On the day in question, the four seniors, packing cellophane bags of caramel corn, presented themselves at the circus tent early to take their seats in the back row of the floor section adjacent to the centre ring. A family of four was in the front row, trying to settle twin four-year-old boys each seized with fear at being so close to the action. Hank studied the scene as if this were one of the circus acts.
Read More Ditchmoss – by Andrew ShaughnessyWeary Willie – by Bethany Bruno
The band leader saw the flame first, signaling his musicians to begin playing “Stars and Stripes Forever,” or what circus folk used in code for “emergency.”
Read More Weary Willie – by Bethany BrunoFair Field Gate – by Eric Janzen
Yet afterwards he seemed to slip away as though the world had become too much for him. How could she have left him there?
Read More Fair Field Gate – by Eric JanzenGod Loves The Sinner, But Not One Like Me – by Suann Amero
Turning from the window to look at Mom and Dad, I watched as she zipped the last bag and he pulled the blankets up over the pillows in his sloppy man-version of making the bed. Mom was vibrating with anger. I had no idea why she was so upset, I was just thankful that her anger wasn’t aimed at me.
Read More God Loves The Sinner, But Not One Like Me – by Suann AmeroLittle Cabin in the Woods – by Andrew Shaughnessy
There was no trailhead. Rather, I should say that if there was a trailhead, we couldn’t find it. I grabbed the metallic tube that my parents called a ‘torch’ to join Bill in the search. I flicked it on only to realize that, compared to Bill’s floodlight, my flashlight had the candlepower of, well, a candle.
Read More Little Cabin in the Woods – by Andrew ShaughnessyEarly Mentors – by Victoria MacDonald
She has found a great bargain, and the lady who sold the property is leaving a kitchen table, dishes, some cots, a dock and a boat.
“We’ll drive up north to see it next weekend,” she adds.
Read More Early Mentors – by Victoria MacDonald
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