Category : Languages and literature

A Short Story by Christina Burris

By: Christina Burris High school is like a jungle. You have the lions and lionesses, aka the cheerleaders and the football players. Then you have the zebras and gazelles aka the nerds which are inevitably at the bottom of the food chain. Once you stray away from your herd into the den of the hunters, there’s no coming back. Imagine the high school cafeteria as the jungle. Each table represents a different pack or herd. The cheerleaders and football players […]

Father – Short Story

By: Nkiacha Atemnkeng I took my seat at the front pew of the church before mass with my wife, Egbe like we always do. At just a glance, I could spot all those church goers in the name of Christians who had not contributed to the betterment of Sacred Heart Parish Fiango, Kumba like the Chis, who had not disbursed a dime for our catechist’s basket. Like Mrs. Foncheu, whom I heard has slept with Father. And scrooge, Pa Atabong, […]

Engelsk Stil – Short Story

By: Katrine Strøm I woke up after the usual nightmare. The one I’d had since my fourteenth birthday few months ago. It was around midnight, I guessed, since mum was still up, but I didn’t have a clock, so I couldn’t be sure. I went for a walk, trying to exhaust myself enough to sleep. I walked down the street as quietly as possible, so as not to wake up any dogs. It’d look good, a teenager out on his own […]

Diary – Short Story

By: Paul Nicholson Diary I just woke up in my van and my penis is all bloated and girthy. It no longer fits in the piss hole of my fuel container, and holding three litres of piss in one hand while undoing my fly, keeping my knob flopped out and making sure that it aims so as not to stink out my van is a chore indeed. My head is floating in a bubble of dehydration. I’m smashed from a […]

Death Of Freedom – Short Story

Death Of Freedom By: Roshan Maniam   I would love to be in Colonial India especially towards its independence. It has a nostalgic feel towards it. Guess I am just influenced by V.S Naipaul’s books. ###   Ram woke up and saw a pair of brown eyes outside his cell door. He got up from his bed slowly. The bruises he suffered still caused him much pain. It was Ophelia. Her pale skin radiated within the dark confines of the […]


DARK SIDE OF THE MOON A LACEY CORVELL NOVEL   CHAPTER ONE Though I  sometimes more than reluctant to admit it, there are a lot of advantages to being a werewolf.  Granted I was crouching bloody, bruised and sore, in the bushes of some random backyard because of what I was, but at least I was alive, and for that I was not complaining. There’s nothing like a near-death experience to make you grateful for what you have, and right […]