#32 Fiction

#32: TENACITY (Fiction)


With every few inches of ground gained, he lifts slightly to display his stomach to the two women. His pupils flare, almost eclipsing his amber irises. The neighbour takes in a sharp breath and gently tugs on the woman’s hand. ‘Sonia, look. He doesn’t have any balls.’

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Zombie Crone

These four job applications are a waste of time, acts of a true zombie feeding a burgeoning bureaucracy of senseless shit. After weeks and weeks of energy-gobbling, hamster-on-a-wheel stress, finally, the penny has dropped. I’ve just got to pretend to be looking for a job.

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Eggy and I

I stretch my legs, rest my tired head in his lap. The Velcro of his favourite old shorts—the ones with countless pockets for stashing fruit and tools—is prickly on my face. I’m turned away from him, looking at the blank telly screen. ‘Nick died today.’

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Anti-Theft Door

Now, even if she wasn’t retired, it would cost more than a month’s salary. ‘It’s so bourgeois,’ her younger brother, then a leftist anti-Shah activist, now a dentist living in Germany, had said. He had said it lightheartedly, but it had still hurt her feelings.

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