Fiction of the Day
The Beautiful Salmon
By Joanna Kavenna
I’ve always loved salmon. Not to eat, as I don’t eat fish, but I’ve always loved salmon in general because salmon jump and no one knows why.
I’ve always loved salmon. Not to eat, as I don’t eat fish, but I’ve always loved salmon in general because salmon jump and no one knows why.
Mrs. Willoughby woke, because of an insinuating pressure on her thigh. Hearing her stir on the other side of the thin wall that separated her room from mine, I went to her.
He’d been applying the usual friction, first and second fingertips."Mm. Now the right,” the circular rub and flicker insisting against cloth until both nipples caught at his attention, perked and ached. The way they would.
The sepulchre was situated in the communal graveyard of Santa Madre de Jesus in the province of Santander. This graveyard was, on account of its location upon the side
They stand in the dark watching the cars and carport barn burn. Far below to the left, fire trucks switch up the mountain, all red flash and horn blast and echoey siren.
My landlady died in the fire that consumed her house, but the rescue squad was able to pull her unconscious dog, Shiloh, out of the flames and breathe life back into him.
On Christmas day, Travis calls from the rig. Miranda hears the phone ring and runs in the house to answer it. glad for an excuse to leave the parry in the yard.
An ice storm, following seven days of snow; the vast fields and drifts of snow turning to sheets of glazed ice that shine and shimmer blue in the moonlight as if the color is being fabricated not by the bending and absorption
He lay beneath a blanket of torn flowers. They were scattered over his chest, gathered about his neck like a garland. Occasionally, the wind found his resting place; stems shifted, loose petals took flight.
Bill saw him about five miles after he had powered past the Dornoch turning. The hitchhiker was walking with one foot in the newly minted road and one on the just born verge.
Smethers the postman, that greasy fuck with his brown letters. Here he comes in his proud-blue uniform. It’s another day, another dense bright space to blacken in.