Author Archives: (Not actually a Lady) Ruthless

The snow lay heavy in the village, even thicker than it did back home in Boston; there was more of it every winter, it seemed. Tomo stood with his head craned back, watching the heavens fall. He wondered how long it would take for them to cover him completely if he lay down upon theContinue reading “Tomo’s Path”

I know how I’ll dress when you’re gone waist small as two fistslips laquered black,black as the pineI’ll rap with my knucklesto see you out, to see youspun into cinderson a loom at which Death toiledwith sympathetic fingersturning dustinto gold I know how I’ll stand meeting the shiftinggaze of any who thoughtI was a shadowfromContinue reading “A Funeral In Bangor”

Memories hurt more in the summeror mine do, at least;I can only speak for myself,myself being all that I know-human feeling has long beenother to me, each mood and whim returning as unfamiliaras the scent of outerspace;they say that it smells like char,and somehow that speaks to memore than people ever didbecause I knowhow itContinue reading “The Rhythm Of A Number”

“I didn’t know that Joe had a dog.” It was the man who said it. He hung back in the farmhouse doorway, one hand hovering over the girl’s thin shoulderblade, poised to yank her back into the barren yard at the first sign of trouble. The dog, however, did not move. It stood with aContinue reading “The Dog”

They stood together, perplexed, staring at the door in the middle of the field. It was at least eight foot high, made of old old steel and reinforced glass, like something torn off the side of a machine. The kind of thing that fell from the sky in science fiction novels, only the door hadn’tContinue reading “THE DOOR FROM NOWHERE”

I photographed Erzebet Almo’s last exhibition, but I didn’t keep any of the pictures for myself, not so much as a thumbnail. Even if they hadn’t been highly censored as one of the most controversial moments in modern art history I wouldn’t have wanted too seek them out; it made me sick to look atContinue reading “The Last Exhibition Of Erzebet Almo”

I was nine years old when the voice first spoke to me. At first I didn’t notice it. Walking home from school on a balmy August afternoon there were a dozen clashing sounds: traffic buzzing on the sidewalk, other kids shrieking with laughter as they shoved by me, the saccharine, jaunty melody of an icecreamContinue reading “Penance”

Babysitting the neighbour’s kid when I was fourteen was the first job I ever had, and should have been the easiest, by far. I had three younger brothers I’d been left alone with every friday night until the last one entered middle school, and thus had childcare down to a fine art. Even before meetingContinue reading “The Caterpillar Man”

For two weeks my dog wouldn’t stop barking at the ceiling, but I only decided to check on the upstairs neighbour when the apartment above mine started to smell. I should have gone up sooner. I should have known something was wrong. But we’re all so used to keeping to ourselves, minding our own business,Continue reading “The Room Above Mine”