i33
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
25 July 2010
Featuring:
Zach Bartlett
Cath Barton
Diana Brodie
Amy Burns
Gretchen Cello
Joe Jablonski
Manasvini Krishna
Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved
i33
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
25 July 2010
Featuring:
Zach Bartlett
Cath Barton
Diana Brodie
Amy Burns
Gretchen Cello
Joe Jablonski
Manasvini Krishna
Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved
Drome'd
"Alan," my dad shouts, "quit with the wordplay and help me polish this chest of drawers! The sale is tomorrow!"
I close my book, grab a rag, and set to polishing the chest with him when I notice an inscription on the bottom of one of the drawers.
"1904?"
"That's right. Been in the family for generations."
"So you know what that makes this, then?"
"Boy," he smirks, "I said to quit-"
"A pre-war dresser drawer, pa!"
by Zach Bartlett of Springfield
I close my book, grab a rag, and set to polishing the chest with him when I notice an inscription on the bottom of one of the drawers.
"1904?"
"That's right. Been in the family for generations."
"So you know what that makes this, then?"
"Boy," he smirks, "I said to quit-"
"A pre-war dresser drawer, pa!"
by Zach Bartlett of Springfield
Joe vs. Fly
I feel this familiar itch of a fly on my leg. I try to kill the fucker, but it’s fast. A minute goes by, again it lands. I swat, it evades. This has been going on for days. It’s driving me nuts. I look at my TV. There on Bundy’s face, the fly stares at me, mocking. A moment of madness takes over and I hurl a beer bottle at it. I regret it instantly. My TV explodes into a mound of glass. Again the fly lands on my leg.
by Joe Jablonski of Waxhaw
The Barking Lily
Jacob didn’t have to open his eyes to know that he was lying on wet cobblestone. The once pink-lit, loud alley outside the Barking Lily was drained of color and sound. The band had finished their set and all he could hear was water falling from a downspout. He steadied himself against a brick wall, almost smiled at the thought of his explanation. Cell phone, gone. Wallet, gone. But the smell of her was still on him.
by Amy Burns of Glasgow
Ground for Divorce
Why do his lips twist at the ends, like a burnt, curled up leaf, when I fail my driving test?
I can smell it. Smell his triumph, as if it was sweat.
by Manasvini Krishna of Chennai
I can smell it. Smell his triumph, as if it was sweat.
by Manasvini Krishna of Chennai
Blood Orange
Lili Kraus, concert pianist,
passed through.
We shook hands. Her fingers
dripped with orange juice.
Though long dead,
she still remembers it.
by Diana Brodie of Cambridge
passed through.
We shook hands. Her fingers
dripped with orange juice.
Though long dead,
she still remembers it.
by Diana Brodie of Cambridge
how possibility waits
I know you'll never read this. Make me love you more. I ran for ink today. A tarot reader told me. Tapping feet. Behind shades. I sniffed unspoken secrets. The city never stops. Fume infused lungs. Sweating out subverted panic. An accordion accosted my frenzied state. I searched for you. Tugging my hair. Biting my lip. Slower. Stretching. I believe I am your trump card. A blank sheet of paper...
by Gretchen Cello of Brisbane
The Edible Woman in the Cinema Box-Office
Gran told me not to stare. I stared.
The woman’s liquid-chocolate eyes fixed on mine. As her marzipan hand passed the tickets to Gran she sneezed sherbet. It sprayed and stung me and I reached out to grab one of her shiny black liquorice curls. She nearly got to me first with her candy-pink finger nails, but I snapped one off clean. Then another, for Gran.
We sucked on them during the film. So much nicer than popcorn.
The woman’s liquid-chocolate eyes fixed on mine. As her marzipan hand passed the tickets to Gran she sneezed sherbet. It sprayed and stung me and I reached out to grab one of her shiny black liquorice curls. She nearly got to me first with her candy-pink finger nails, but I snapped one off clean. Then another, for Gran.
We sucked on them during the film. So much nicer than popcorn.
by Cath Barton of Abergavenny
