Human Parcels – by Fiona Clark

Hidden in my right shoe’s hollow heel, a gold watch ticks.

Beneath my under-bodice, neatly stitched, my mother’s

turquoise ring. The water in the harbour coils, black ink

Razor Blades Sheathed in Velvet – by Zelda C. Thorne

Eleven voice messages. The first three are garbled, vicious insults interspersed with begrudging apology and admissions of profound, earth-shattering love. Nathan’s voice cracks, wounded.

Road(kill) Trip – by Lindsey Harrington

I’ve hummed every song I can think of, twice, and almost chewed myself a new haircut.