Issue 28 Winter 2024/25 7th Anniversary
Andrew McKenna – Fiction
The skies are black with smoke from thousands of smashed buildings. Roads are like the surface of the moon. I am forced to park my car five kilometres away from home and walk. Streets are barely recognisable. In places I must scramble over smashed piles of rubble. Cats prowl through the ruins. It has become a city of predators. At one place I gash my hand and I curse. I hear bombers overhead and I shout at them, hurl a brick at them that lands in a burning building and nearly dislocate my elbow for my trouble.
Submissions
Now accepting submissions for:
fiction, poetry, essays, photography & art
Anthony Mohr - Essay
Several years earlier, when I sat in traffic court, I found a woman guilty of speeding. I believed the officer, and since he’d cited her a block from my health club at about 4:50 pm, I had a hunch she was racing to a class there. “I find you guilty,” I said, then offered her traffic school. A month or so later, in my health club’s sauna, a man emerged from the steam and approached me. “Are you a judge?” he asked. Both of us were buck naked.
