Covid-19 is an eye-opening, jaw-dropping, heart-breaking disease.
As writers in lockdown, all that we can do to help is to write.
We hope that these short, silly stories give you a moment’s relief.
03
Apr
GOING SOMEWHERE, SEO?
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Crafting Brand Identity is a Stitch
A Stitch in Time
Twenty-one sleeps, one haircut, one $6 box of hair dye, and no one's showed up to get me. I figure it's time to learn the name of this new town— time to...
24
Aug
Fresh-Baked Brand Authenticity
There's Cake And Then There's Cake
“It’s gotta be from Gino’s," my mom says, "They’re the only ones that use real lemon.” She's a big believer in brand name authenticity.
“But…”
“No ‘buts.’ You know your sister...
04
Jun
The Free Gift
I get to the front of the queue and my purchases tumble from my arms onto the counter. The cashier rings them up and announces that I qualify for a free gift, a cold...
03
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People, People and not a Drop to Drink
A pot, two pans, five mugs, a fat wine glass and plastic basin for the dishes: the whole inventory of water-bearing objects in my apartment. I have arranged them in the middle of my...
01
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How Clickbait Made Me Cringe
The metro doors beep in time to the nervous chattering of my teeth. A Spanish Adonis has sat across from me and I. Am. Losing. It. I don’t usually fall for looks; I like...
02
May
This Old Man Hears A Call To Action
From the apartment window, I can see the old man who lives across the street. His tin roof held down by children's toys. A dusty deflated basketball. An old pink tricycle. A broken rattle...
16
Apr
Lockdown Neighbours
It’s almost midnight when the yelling starts. I peek out my window to see what’s causing the ruckus. Through the open window of the house next door I can see the neighbours yelling at...
08
Apr
Pity About The Pegs
The elderly Maltese lady calls to me in her native tongue from her rooftop laundry garden; grabbing pegs and gesticulating urgently. Pointing at the damp clothes haphazardly strung over thin wires stretched between stone...
07
Apr
Strangers On A City Street
No cars, no people. Just sunrise reflecting in the puddles; leftover rainwater. It is so quiet you can hear the wind under your breath. My dog tugs on the leash and looks back to...
06
Apr
Now And Then It’s Black And White
I stand in front of the black door to my apartment and in a flash I don’t recognize it. What am I doing here? What are these keys doing in my hand?
I want to...
03
Apr
Window Watching
When I got home I sat on my roof with a cold beer, my steel gazebo light on. I looked at the man that lives behind the ½ x ½ window, cooking again, still...