There’s a stand-off, gunslinger style. Mari’s at one end of the sitting room, next to the man-tel. Tim’s at the other, filling the space underneath the archway leading into the kitchen. He scrapes his hand through his hair, and Mari wonders if he’s looking for answers amongst the dandruff. Continue reading Playing for Keeps by Rachael Grant
When he finished, he shut the door, then sat on his throne and admired his work. He opened the window and watched the birds, the neighbour’s children playing on their jungle gym, the passing cars. He also studied a tall tree that grew next to the window. Clusters of bright orange berries burst from the tree’s branches. Continue reading The Orange Berry by Douglas J. Ogurek
Someone stopped me in the street. He was obviously a homeless man, surrounded and mounted by many pigeons; two on his shoulders, one on his head and others circling him, and, by and by, circling me with him. Continue reading The Burial by Hazem Shekho
Maybe that was why Franny liked Dot. He had roughly cut hair and used to smoke rolled cigarettes that smelled like damp leaves and thunderstorms. He called me Topper, which I didn’t like very much, and never made eye contact with anyone other than bus drivers, which Fran thought was quirky but Jack and I strange. Continue reading Juniper by Nicholas John Greenfield
Welcome to your Emerald Rated (Level 4) Bumper Subscription Pack! We’ve got some top-notch treats for our loyal subscribers, themed around Earth’s sister planet – just for us ladies! Our affordable, tailor-made subscription packs are carefully designed to complement your busy life and natural cycles. So when your skin, your job or the planets are getting you down – give yourself a boost! And if everything seems to be on your side – give yourself something to celebrate! Continue reading Rise and Shine! by Hannah Miodrag
You bump into them on the stairs, in the lift, while picking your post from the letterbox. Some you’ve known for years. You say hello, ask about their grandchildren, or their pets. Some still avoid your gaze but they will keep the door open for you if they see you carrying groceries. Continue reading Know Thy Neighbours by Slawka G. Scarso
The first time I saw the spider, I was two bites into a midnight bowl of store-brand generic Cheerios. Movement caught my eye, something fast and primal, flashing behind years-old jars of pasta Lisa had left behind. Continue reading Gargantua by Justin Bryant
I get to school early because I want to hop on the tall swing set before anyone else, the shiny blue seat waiting to carry me away. Continue reading Planted In Blue by Melissa Llanes Brownlee
I stop dead, startled. Her image catches my eye, small and desolate, staring out from the laminated paper. A monochrome photograph with a screaming pink border – it’s hard to miss. Someone has neatly attached the poster to a street light opposite the river, so that anyone walking toward Stratford centre will see it. Continue reading Missing by Amy Elizabeth Doherty
For a country that prides itself on lemons, we only have three groves in the town. One is perched high above the cliff road, the tree roots sprawling over the brick wall. The other is a private residence, and you can only glimpse it from the right side of the house, the lemons flashing like orbs of light. Continue reading The Lemon Grove by Maria Clark
Voices rasping, eyebrows beetling, they declared: “This is it. Your lives shall be ever foul. You think yourselves valuable. Cogs in the machine. But when one of you falls, ten spring from the dirt in your place. What They owe you, They shall never give you.” Continue reading They Told My Friend by Amita Basu
We have our happy routines: Job Centre on a Monday, Wetherspoon’s on a Thursday, kebabs on a Friday at the start of the month, then beans with a flipped egg to garnish when the giro runs dry. The boys keep the kitchen clean and I do the lounge. The bathroom is no man’s land – it’s functional, but you wouldn’t want to be trapped there for longer than needs be. Continue reading We Still Don’t Use The Garage by SJ Townend
Though the Outcasts were apprehensive of The Towers, few could resist the strange longing they compelled. Nobody should hold themselves to blame for this, the Ultras taught. Lusting after the cold and distant reminders of their loss of paradise was no sin provided each Outcast understood the shining obelisks for the harbingers of hell they truly were. Continue reading Where Have All the Flowers Gone? by Robert Lumsden
In this way, Carl Trampler’s military career ended in a less than honourable discharge. And in those days a discharge like that could mark you for life. You would never get any decent kind of job, like at GE in Schenectady, or even with the Post Office. Continue reading Hammer and Sickle by Michael Cooney
The letter fae the agency is burnin a hole in ma poakit. Should ah huv telt her about it? Ah think mibbe ah should’ve, but then ah remember the way she’s been puttin me doon and how she’s been bang oot ay order. Nae chance. Continue reading One Green Bottle by Gerald Green
I once put a suit that cost as much as your car in the bin. The jacket had a bleach splatter just below the breast pocket. It had been a really unique shade of blue. Kind of like my mother’s eyes I would tell people, even though I couldn’t remember what colour eyes she’d had. It was a magnificent suit, and the bleach damage was … Continue reading Greedy Bird by Julian Harvard
My eyes fly open. I look up. And up. And up. I cannot see the ceiling. There is no ceiling. There’s nothing above me but void and I grip at my sheets to hold on, suddenly sure that if I let go, I will fall upwards and into that looming, gaping emptiness– Continue reading A Sense of Grandeur by Maud Woolf
My plucking had gotten very bad by then and I was starting to wonder if my flesh was trying to speak to me. It would mutter to me, not only at night, but also in the day, when I was listening to customer’s voices. The tweezers were much too harsh to use on my eyelashes and so these I removed, gently, by pulling them out with my forefinger and thumb. I pulled up my jumper to look at my stomach, noting how my hips jutted out at sharp angles, how my breasts slumped, barely filling the cups of my bra. There was satisfaction in the harsh curve of my collar bone and the spareness of my skin. Continue reading Birdie by Rebekah McDermott
Bandit Fiction 