- Suddenly all the cupboards were bare. You watched them come in and take everything.There they were, in the blink of an eye, forming a trail across the freshly swept floorboards of the cottage you've agreed to mind for the summer. Into the pantry they marched. Packets of flour, tins of soup, jars of Vegemite, passed from one to the next, through the kitchen and out the door.
Flood At The Bentham Penitentiary By Wayne Marshall
- Water licks at my ribcage, and the prison walls groan, but I'm not leaving — not until I lay eyes on him. Surely the water's reached the third level of his observation tower by now? Surely he'll have to make his escape soon? Still, no matter how hard I squint, I see no movement in his window. The blinds are shut tight, as usual.
Negotiation By Simon Petrie
- "These are my demands," the voice rasped. It was a harsh voice, swarthy; the police communicator didn't do it any favours. "I want a working time machine, a large crate of MREs, no soy no gluten no nuts, and the complete works of Erich von Daniken, in Aramaic, on parchment. And I want it by midnight."
Pest Control By Andrew Girle
- The advertisement read: We only use the latest in genetically-tailored aerosol pest control toxins with a no-residual guarantee... Haruz, the new owner, continued reading, scrolling through reams of technical information, then, on a hunch, ran a quick search on 'aerosol pest control'.
Puncture Wound By Sean Monaghan
- Doc Michaels frowned. "Tell me again how this happened." He tapped Grant's helmet with his stylus and watched the bustling nanos. It's very simple," I said. Michaels was an idiot. I'd already told him twice between the airlock and the medroom. As if how made any difference to my dying friend. "A puncture."
Slipping Through The Cracks By Shaun A. Saunders
- In the cavernous underground parking area of the sprawling Fabcola Home Shopping Centre, a police cruiser flashed its lights, blipped its siren and cut across a nondescript sedan, forcing it to pull over. "Good afternoon, sir," said the officer to the driver as he approached.
Chips By Natalie J.E. Potts
- Cass stuffed another handful of hot chips into her mouth, adding to the pulverised load already swilling around in there. Her mouth looked like a front-loading washing machine full of fluffy, beige towels. "I didn't even know you had a deep-fryer," Petra said, her lips curled slightly in disgust.
Twenty Six By Gary Hill
- Ed has been driving for days. Rain slumps on the windscreen like a drunken slut, slurring on the glass until the wipers shove it aside. Wet dog stink claws its way out of the sopping-wet carpet beneath his boots. He nudges the window open a crack and glances in the rearview mirror: darkness.
The Kiss By Houston Dunleavy
- Oh, but he could kiss! He had just the right combination of strength and softness that made her stomach flip. And tonight, his kiss had meaning and purpose: he'd finally reached the part of her that wanted to give him her entire body and soul — then he pulled away.
Zero Point By Martin Livings
- There are places mankind hasn't traveled yet, things never seen by human eyes. Luckily for them, they made us. To see in their place.