Short Fiction
Jerrold’s Agreement
Jerrold’s Agreement by D.D. Renforth Before the abduction Jerrold was a stockbroker in Toronto who led a life of excessive indulgence and extravagance. On business in Istanbul, partying with his chums at a private club, the terrorists came as masked men and abducted him and others. They tried to ransom him, but his company was silent,... More
The Ice People
The Ice People by D.D. Renforth The failed attempt to kill the immigrant Ankala Imfredo occurred in the midst of weeks of frigid air and snow, when Ankala’s organization was busy trying to find homes for the homeless in Toronto. The wind chill eventually reached forty below centigrade. Icicles hung from the wires... More
Welcome To Toronto
That First Morning by Kegan Doyle Fen awoke, fetally curled up in sweat-soaked sheets on the loft floor. For a moment, he thought he was back home in Victoria and that he could hear his mother with her thick Slovakian accent telling him he was late for work. “Here, Westie, this will keep your guts... More
Do You Like Halifax?
Colin couldn’t play the guitar. He could never wrap his head around it. He could play a little bass, but nothing special. Enough to follow along on some Ramones covers with buddies, but nothing requiring skill. He was a drummer. And even as a drummer he wasn’t very talented. He had a band. A garage... More
Stopping by Esso on a Snowy Evening
The following is an excerpt from Dylan Jewers’ yet to be published composite novel: ‘First In A Chain of Lakes.’ My darling wasn’t in the mood to see me. She wasn’t angry with me, she just wasn’t feeling good enough for company. I didn’t press her. I wouldn’t dare. I’m extra irritating in situations such... More
Sink or Swim
Here is a list of things I don’t understand: how to do my taxes, American politics, daylight savings time, how to cook perfect pasta, outer space. Twenty years ago, I thought that growing up meant also growing out: out of your twin bed, out of your small town, out of your childhood friendships, out of... More
Cloud Bath
I remember that Saturday afternoon still, the bugs in the park, the heat, the cheap Korean beer in my hand. I was on my own. My sort-of-girlfriend at the time busy with something else, my usual companion Jed-an industrious and energetic fixer of all things – was busy with his own, more definite, girlfriend.... More
Barnaby Jones: Part II
II Ande a Greate hearte thundered in the voide saying: “seake pater, ande alle that woulde be…. sprange forthe.” hayte and amore bothe as woeful and brighte and terrible. Quantum computers computing quantum rings. That’s where it started. Experiments. “It’s not virtual, it’s not just aethereal data we’re uploading-it’s matter, real... More
Barnaby Jones (Part I)
Barnabyjones I He looked up at Sparky, who was now covered in crazy pink tiger stripes. He looked up on them all on that last dawn. His robots: all painted in bright chaotic colors by some of the children of this hungerless, perilous, unfathomed new world; that was whirling by now like a hurricane.... More
Whale of a Tale
The people gathered around a fire as people always do on a still night between hot golden days in June. Wooded hills stretched over them, and beyond the fire a dazed stretch of sand wandered into a river: a great old snake in valleys. The peoples’ bellies were full and they had run out of... More
Write Me a Love Story
Write Me a Love Story by Anthony J.S. Leclair Thursday, August 1, 2013. There’s a thickness in the air. I can taste it. A tumult. They are coming. My success, my fame…I am nothing but a vessel. Ten years to the day. I cannot help but recall. Borrowed time flies after... More
Anima Libra – Part III
The website bothered the hell out of me, not just due to the content, but something felt off about the pictures themselves. They looked way too perfect, almost manufactured. The facial expressions don’t seem to vary that much, leading me to believe that whoever had put them up had doctored them. James has a background... More
Anima Libera – Part II
I do my best to open the front door with a degree of stealth, not wishing to disturb my ersatz landlord from his daily routine of playing online games against pre-teens. He’s had a bit of a troubled life, James. Up until four years ago, he had been a graphic designer for an entertainment... More
The Century Tree
They say that home isn’t a place – home is people. And perhaps they’re right, at that. Few places seem homey without the benediction of familiar faces and voices. But then there are places with a special kind of resonance – places that just feel right, that answer back when you speak to them.... More
Gangsterland
I’m crashing my way through six blocks of coral reef to your heart. When I speak of heart I am not referring to the paper red cut-outs that we pasted macaroni to in grade three. When I speak of heart I am referring to the gross red-blue-black pound of muscle on the left of... More
Worlds Apart: Tales from the Land of Aden
During the storied reign of Abbasid Caliph Jafar Al-Mutawakkil, AD 850 in the Christian calendar, there lived in the bustling port town of Aden a family of poor fishermen. Malik caught fish by longboat; his eldest son, Suleiman, dried and salted the catfish, turbot, and mackerel with bare hands on the wharf, while Said prepared... More
Anima Libra – Part I
“Oh…oh, God…” she gasped, her breath hitting sweet against the growing beads of sweat against my neck, sending shivers along my bloodied back as her nails dig into my skin in a desperate attempt to hold onto the moment. My fingers knead her shoulder and thigh as she wraps her endless legs about my... More
Men of the Earth – Part IV
“Where the hell are they,” Hogarth growled. He was referring to the conspicuous absence of Amadeus and Lee, on that day of all days. It could’ve also been the heat getting to him. It was a scorcher and everyone was feeling the effects. But I and everyone else knew it was more. That... More
The Fever
After she left me, I was in a fever. I wanted chaos. I wanted never ending darkness. I tore down the curtains, clawed at the wall paper and I screamed, inhuman sounds that ripped from deep inside me. My thoughts came scattered and too loud, in a language I could barely understand. The tears... More
Dorothy Dances in the Land of Oz
–and I’m holding her hand as tightly as I could, like capturing light in between clenched fists, like encapsulating a deluge in a teacup—hopeless, but I held on anyway. In hindsight, this was the essence of our friendship—undying love and futile desperation; starvation only the half-dead could relate to, that addiction to life and... More