dust regions
brandon daily
On the plane, he looks over and, smiling, says to me, says Silas, I’m trying to figure life out now, how it’s gonna be without. Can’t tell how I’ll find a girl now. I didn’t understand then, not ‘til I looked down at his pants again and saw the blood stain spreading out more in his lap and down his legs. He tried to cover it up with a shirt he had with him. And I looked back at him and saw him cry and he leaned over and hugged me and cried and cried into my shoulder and I knew then. When we got back, we both got to working in the mines, just like our father. We would go out at night to Roy’s and get a beer or two. That’s where he met Jean.
the canoe
chris muir
During the year when it was hot and we were too far from the beach, we used to swim at Thirlmere Lakes. There were four connected freshwater lakes. They were surrounded by reeds and set in bushland, rich in native flora and fauna including beautiful flowers that snapped shut when you touched them and long grey goannas. The first lake was closed for public use, the second was dedicated to those using motorboats pulling along water skiers. In actual fact it was way too small for skiers so it wasn’t too popular for that in the end. The third lake was left for swimmers and had a long wooden wharf that was perfect for running along and jumping into the water. It also had a ladder, with which you could climb back out of the water and then run and jump again over and over. The fourth lake I very seldom saw as it was past a locked gate that we inevitably named ‘The Locked Gate’. It was privately leased and had a caravan park on it that was rumoured to be a nudist camp.
rosa, goodnight
dan micklethwaite
He walked up the hill to the station so he could see all of the place, and all of the place looked how they filmed soft-focus in old porn, with petroleum jelly on the lens. He didn’t know if they still did that anymore. Maybe some studios did, trying to be more authentic. Those greased-over actresses would be like the old dogs on the Rue de _____ now. All the old dogs except Rosa. The greased-over men would be like him.
regression
richard w. strachan
He stayed off work for the rest of the week. By Friday, his wife could no longer disguise her alarm. He could keep nothing down, and had trouble getting anything in. Spoonfuls of soup were sour in his mouth, and he had to spit them back into the bowl. He choked on more generous fare. He kept secret from his wife the strange protrusion he could feel in the centre of his gut, an oval of hard, obdurate matter, like a thickened column of muscle. Taking it in both hands, he could move the growth, or the swelling, whatever it was, first from one side then to the other before it met any internal resistance.