Rock, paper, scissors by Rob Walton
On Monday a large stone crashes through the window. It is wrapped in an abusive letter. Eva doesn’t know what to do.
Bamboo Canes by Tarmo Rajasaari
Yai is praying. She does that every evening around this time. Yai doesn’t speak English.
Train Man by Patience Mackarness
There is a you who still follows the tracks through India, photographing engines with names like Locomotive Sentinel and Last Star.
About the Longevity of Labelling Bell Jars by Mandira Pattnaik
I do understand the way my loving husband labels the bell jars, even though I can see through the glass what they are filled-with—salt, sugar, biscuits, and flour.
Bamboo Silk by Rosaleen Lynch
Pillow talk turns to silk; real or faux. In winter’s lowlight, smoke rises from the bedside ashtray, as the hotel window keeps the lunchtime city at bay.